Under Cloudy Skies
by Liz Hollow
Summary: [prequel to "Across the Sun"] After being taken advantage of by the world she saved, May removes herself from the equation. She plans an elaborate game, sending one brave Adventurer back and forth across the country to save the broken world she left behind. But first she must plant the letters and find out how to fix something that cannot be helped.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** This is, essentially, _Across the Sun_'s prequel (following RSE-canon, not ORAS). Most of the events from this story occur before the events of _Across the Sun_, some occur during, and some occur after. However, I would recommend reading the original story before this one. It will give you more insight about May's character in particular—her motivations, for example. (If you are sensitive to reading about mental illness, this is your warning.)

The story will update every Monday (with much longer chapters!).

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_**-Seven Weeks Since Disappearance-**_

It felt like a thousand needles stabbing into my feet whenever I took a step, but I took some slight pleasure in the pain as I paced back and forth across the rotting floor. It hurt so badly that with each step, a giggle erupted from me, but it was only when my legs gave out beneath me that I burst into continuous laughter.

I would try to take my shoes off, but my feet swelled so much from being on this damn half-sunken ship that I couldn't. Not to mention my fingers pruned from the water to the point that I couldn't feel them anymore. I probably hadn't been able to for weeks.

But all of that pain, even the tingling of my fingers, reminded me that this wasn't just a dream. I was still alive.

When I stopped laughing, mainly because I couldn't breathe anymore, I sat up on my knees. The ship creaked even with that slight movement, but by some miracle, the floor didn't give out beneath me. I explored every inch of this wreckage since I came, and that this place wasn't as torn apart as the rest of it had to be fate. It was like I was called here.

I crawled across the floor to my stash of food, and I peered into the sack. Mostly nonperishable items: nuts, canned fruits and tuna, and bottles of water that I refilled with every rainstorm. Every now and again when a lone fish swam up through the ship, I'd snag it and eat that, but it was too damp to start a fire here.

I peered into the nearly-empty bag… a laugh burst from me again, and, with a grunt, I threw the sack against the wall beside me. And as it crashed against the wall and fell to the floor, I screamed. My voice broke several times from disuse, so it sounded more like a jungle man's roar than anything else.

I was still alive, but there wasn't much time left. I was a time bomb, and the clock was quickly ticking down to zero.

Tick, tock.

_Tick, tock_.

Tick, tock.

My Adventurer… where were they? Did they ever find my letters? Were they the hero I desired, the one who was going to fix everything?

Was I really going to die on this ship?

I laughed again. I should have known that the game never would've worked out. I had a hunch that it wouldn't. It was too difficult, too painful. Maybe no one ever found my first letter to begin with, or maybe the person turned it in to the police after all. Someone might come for me someday, but I'd be rotted away by that point.

With another shot of pain coursing through my body, I pulled my legs into my chest. My arms shook so badly that I could barely hold them there, but I bit down on the skin of my right forearm to stifle a gasp. It used to be thicker. All of me used to be a bit thicker—my skin, my hair, my mind. It didn't give me a lot to bite.

"I'm almost done," I whispered to myself, and then I bit down on my arm again.

The hours passed by as they always did: silently, slowly. I lost track of how many days I had been here weeks ago. I used to count by my rations, but now I just ate when I couldn't see straight, not when I was hungry. I was always hungry.

And the silence…

_The silence_…

The silence…

The silence shattered this place. The creaking of the ship, my staggered breathing, the grumbling of my stomach—none of it could mask the pure silence of this place. It was all so loud—the voices inside my head, too, that were probably my own, but I didn't even recognize it anymore. Weeks of silence could do that to a person. Every little noise sounded strange: the ones I made up, too.

When was the last time I spoke with anyone? I couldn't remember. Probably right before I left, but I couldn't remember the words exchanged or with whom I exchanged them. Everything in my head was foggy. The only thing I could remember right now was all the rage that made me leave in the first place.

Anger…

Pain…

Silence…

And a face. The face of the one person who mattered, the one person I loved by my choice, the person it had been _most_ painful to leave behind. Even he was starting to fade away behind the haze in my mind.

What a cruel world this was.

I couldn't fix it. All of my attempts to salvage what was left of this world had failed, and my hero wasn't going to save it either. I would be left behind on this ship, never knowing if the world was any better than it was on the day I left it.

So cruel.

I lifted my mouth from my arm as a cough built in my chest, and it broke from me so fiercely that I thought my throat might tear itself out. It was getting so hard to breathe in this place; the saturated air just got heavier and heavier every day.

Tick, tock.

_Tick, tock_.

Tick, tock.

I let my legs fall out straight, unable to hold them against my chest any longer, and I leaned back against the slanted floor. When I closed my eyes this time, maybe the Adventurer would be there with me the next time I opened them.

Ha. All that hard work gone to waste.

Or maybe I never started the game at all. When it came down to it, this could all just be one big figment of my imagination, and I was here and not there because I couldn't cut it in the real world. I started a game in my head to erase everyone and everything.

Yeah. That sounded right. And when I opened my eyes again—_if_ I opened my eyes again—I would find out that this was just one big nightmare that never ended.

It hurt, and I was still so scared. But I just lay there and laughed. This, after all, was the fate Icarus deserved.


	2. The Beginning

**Chapter One – The Beginning**

_**-Four Years Prior to Disappearance-**_

The story of Icarus was not a complicated one, but when I read it for the first time, it seemed to perfectly encompass everything about my very complicated life.

It began in Athens, a land far away from my own and separated by hundreds upon hundreds of years. Icarus was the son of Daedalus, a talented and respected artisan and descendant of the first king of Athens. The father created many wonderful things for many wonderful people, earning him recognition and giving him the confidence he needed to create anything, even at the risk of angering the gods.

However, out of jealousy for his nephew Talus, who chose to emulate his uncle by creating a magnificent saw, Daedalus killed the new young inventor. As punishment for his crime, he was sent to the island of Crete to work for King Minos. There, he had a son with one of King Minos's mistresses and named him Icarus.

King Minos, pleased with Daedalus's skill, asked the man to build him a labyrinth to hold the Minotaur, a monster hybrid with the head of a bull and body of a man—born of his wife and of the bull sent as a gift from a god. King Minos wanted to trap the Minotaur within the labyrinth, and there it would feed on humans as a tribute to King Minos's lost son.

Another king, the king of Athens, volunteered to be a tribute for the Minotaur because he desired to kill it and end the sacrificing. This king fell in love with King Minos's daughter when he arrived in Crete, and she sought the help of Daedalus in order to help her newfound love defeat the Minotaur. Daedalus gave her a ball of string, which she then gave to the king of Athens. In turn, he defeated the Minotaur.

Upon discovering that Daedalus had been the one to help the king, King Minos locked Daedalus and Icarus within a tower with exits leading only to the labyrinth. They remained there for many years until Icarus grew to be a young man, and they spent their days formulating plans to escape and observing the skies. They could not flee from the labyrinth by foot nor by boat. So, it was as Daedalus witnessed birds flying across the sky that he made his plan to escape from the labyrinth with his son. They could fly out of the labyrinth using wings, which he would make from feathers and wax.

On the day of their departure, Daedalus warned Icarus not to fly too close to the sun, as the warmth from its rays would melt the wax; and he could not fly too close to the sea below them, as the wings might touch the water and become unusable.

The thrill of flying was too much for young Icarus, however. The boy did not heed his father's warnings and stretched beyond the limits towards the sun above them. The heat from the sun melted the wax on his wings, and Icarus fell from the sky and drowned in the sea. Daedalus was mortified by his loss, but there was nothing he could do to save his son. He continued his journey away from Crete without his son.

The story was one of hubris. Icarus flew too high, despite his father's warnings, and lost his life as a result of his excessive pride. He believed himself too capable, was overcome by excitement. And the poor soul would never breathe again.

Well, to be fair, it didn't _exactly_ describe my life. But I sympathized with Icarus, probably more than I should for someone like me and someone like him. Icarus wanted to test the limits, and how was he supposed to know where the limits were without challenging them?

He was punished for overestimating his own abilities. The story warned those who heard it of the dangers of being prideful.

But to me, it was a sad tale that killed Icarus off for being human.

I wanted to fly across the sun, too. I wanted to test those limits, and if I fell into the sea, so be it. The world worshipped me as a hero—one that I didn't want to be; one that I never asked to be—and I belonged to everyone else.

This was a broken, _broken_ world. And even I, as a hero, could not be the one to save it.

If only it had been cloudy the day Daedalus and Icarus flew away from the labyrinth… But who could say that Icarus wouldn't have tried to touch the sea?

The door to my room swung open, and my mom poked her head into my space. "May, the crew is here."

I slammed my book shut, a piece of loose paper folding inside of it. That paper held all of the answers I needed. Maybe everything on that note was part of a dream—all of the things I wanted to do but probably couldn't.

"Okay, I'll be down in one second."

I placed the book on my shelf in a spot between some fairy tales and folklore, and then turned to fix my hair in the mirror. Picture perfect, like always.

When I bounded out of my room and down the stairs, I found my living room packed full with cameras and people. Two men were moving the furniture around at the direction of a lady in a pencil skirt. A second woman was assuring my parents that they would put all of the furniture back before they left.

But all work ceased when I reached the landing, and the lady in the pencil skirt clapped her hands together.

"Champion May! Such an honor!" She whacked a third man, carrying a bulky camera, in the chest. "Get her coming into the room."

The red light indicating the camera's operation turned on, and I smiled into it. "Hello!" I exclaimed, and I blew a kiss. Everyone ate that up—and everyone else, when they watched this interview from the comfort of their homes, would eat out of the palm of my hand.

"Perfect. You can turn that off while we finish setting up," the pencil-lady told the cameraman, pointing to the camera with a sharp finger. It kind of looked like she could stab someone with that bright orange nail of hers.

Then she flipped her hand, curling her index finger back and gesturing for me to come over to her.

"It's so nice to meet you. I'm Mari," she told me when I approached her, holding out her manicured hand and shaking my not-so-manicured one. "So, let's talk business. The deal is that as long as you complete the entire interview, you'll get full payment on this. Otherwise, you get your down payment of five hundred thousand. Cash." She grabbed a clipboard from the coffee table and flipped a couple of papers over it. "That's a lot of cash to carry around. You wouldn't prefer a check?"

I smiled and shook my head. It was all right there in print—whenever a news magazine or celebrity spotlight group wanted to interview me, they had to agree to my terms and conditions. And one of my terms and conditions was for my payment to be in cash.

My parents didn't question it. I traveled a lot, even after being crowned the Champion, so I needed to have a fair amount of cash on me for battles, just in case I ever lost.

Well, not that any of _this_ money ever saw my pocket. I had other plans for it.

"All right, looks like we're all set. Can you just sign this? It just says that you are not obligated to answer all of our questions, but you cannot sue us for any that you may deem insensitive, inappropriate, et cetera," Mari explained, passing the clipboard over to me. I signed it right away; having been through this before, I didn't care much for logistics.

We sat down in two chairs in front of the camera on the tripod. Mari crossed her ankles and folded her hands on her lap. Behind me, off-camera, one of her assistants held cue cards—some interviewers read their questions from cue cards, and others held them on index cards. They tended to look more involved with cue cards.

"This is going to be just like a conversation, okay, May? Pretend the camera isn't even there."

I nodded—not that I needed the reminder. I had this down to a science. If they wanted all of my secrets, I'd give them all away. They knew everything else about me already.

"Rolling," the cameraman said, and Mari smiled.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome." She spoke straight to the camera, her voice louder and clearer than before. I glanced up at the boom-mic and wondered if they really needed it. "Today we have a very _special_ guest—in a very special place, in fact. We are _in_ Champion May's house with none other than the Champion herself. Welcome, Champion May."

The camera moved slightly, shifting its focus to me, and I laughed—a girly little laugh that didn't really sound much like my real one. "Hello, it's so great to be here. In my own house!"

Mari laughed, too, and her eyes flickered to the left of my head where the guy with the cue cards was standing. "We can't thank you enough for welcoming us into your home. It's so lovely. It must have been very hard for you to leave it behind when you first left on your journey across Hoenn, wasn't it?"

"Well, you know, it wasn't that bad. I, uh… just moved in the exact same day as I got my first Pokémon, a Torchic that everyone now knows as my Blaziken. I left the next day—which happened to be my sixteenth birthday. So, I only slept in my room upstairs one time before I left. That—that transition was easy." I laughed again, and Mari chuckled quietly. "Leaving my parents was a little harder."

"I can only imagine. They're here today, actually, and we'll bring them on a little later." She glanced over her shoulder and waved at my parents, and the camera went to them for a moment before pointing back at us. "For right now, I'd like to talk to you about the big event awhile back that, essentially, made your name a household name. Can we do that?"

"Of course."

Mari shifted, crossing her legs now and holding her chin between her thumb and index finger. "You saved us. Everyone knows that. You've done countless interviews on that event since it happened and since you became Champion. But my question for you is—what came as a result of that day for _you_? Not just the fame and things like that, but how did it affect you… as a person?"

My eyes were on her hands, which she gestured with every single word. She talked with her hands. Interviewers differed that way. Some spoke with their hands, some kept their hands on their index cards, some kept them in their laps.

"Everything changed." The words came out quietly—more quietly than I meant, anyway, and more solemnly. For a split second, my heart skipped a beat, and I panicked. She must have noticed that. Someone must have heard it. "I mean that I viewed myself as incapable before, and after it was like… I could fly," I added quickly, more enthusiastically.

If Mari noticed my misstep, she didn't react to it. "And obviously everything that happened is now written in stone. But, looking back, is there anything you would have done differently?"

Differently? I would have done _everything_ differently.

"Nothing." I smiled again. Maybe no one saw or heard anything. "If I could go back, I would have saved the world all over again."

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Two Years Prior to Disappearance-<strong>_

"Steven?"

I pushed his front door open without any hesitancy. He let me walk in all the time, so to do so now didn't bother me. He kept a spare key under the flower pot in front of his house, which I wasn't sure he knew I knew, but he never said anything when I walked in uninvited. Only, "Oh, I'm so terrible about locking the door. Not that I want to keep you out! You're always welcome here."

"Steven Stone? Hello?"

He didn't frequent his house. It wasn't much of a home to begin with—sparsely decorated and furnished, not much food in the fridge or cabinets. That was half the reason I loved it. It was exactly what I would want in my own house, if I ever got one. Quiet and quaint, a place where I could live in the silence I so desired.

But it just so happened that whenever I had the urge to visit him, he always found his way home. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it was fate.

"It's May!" I called, and the front door fell shut behind me, leaving me in complete silence. "I need to tell you something! Something important!"

I slid my shoes off and walked through his house, tiny though it was. Not in the living room… not in the kitchen… not in the bedroom or bathroom.

My fingers curled into my palms, my nails breaking the thick skin there. Of course he wasn't here. I couldn't be so lucky every time. One of these days, I had to enter and find the house empty, and today just happened to be that day. When I came back next time, maybe he'd be here again, ready with a cup of tea.

That was what the logical side of me thought, anyway, but I couldn't help but feel as though I was bubbling over with fear that this wasn't just a coincidence.

I walked back down the short hallway into the living room, and it was then that I noticed, glinting against the sunlight pouring in through the window, a lone Poké Ball and an envelope sitting on the desk in the corner of the room.

An envelope with my name on it.

My heartbeat quickened, and I tore the envelope open. No, no. He wasn't doing this… I knew he was flighty, I got that, but…

_To May,_

_I've decided to do a little soul-searching and train on the road. I don't plan to return home for some time. I have a favor to ask of you. I want you to take the Poké Ball on the desk. Inside it is a Beldum, my favorite Pokémon. I'm counting on you. May our paths cross again someday._

_Steven Stone_

My eyes were watering by the time I got to the end of the brief note, and I wiped them dry with the back of my hand. This wasn't possible. Steven wouldn't just… abandon me like that. He wouldn't have just left without saying a word to me. He wouldn't have left with just a note and not tell me where he was going or when he'd be back.

I read the note once more, now with dry eyes. On the road? That could be anywhere…

I crumpled the letter in my hand and snatched the Poké Ball off the desk. He left me behind to babysit a Pokémon for him? He really wouldn't give me anything more than this? And here I thought that he cared about me—loved me even, if such a feeling could exist in his heart. He loved me, and he wouldn't even tell me where he was going?

Or… did he?

I unfolded the letter and read it one more time. _I've decided to do a little soul-searching and train on the road._ Soul-searching?

There was no way that Steven hadn't heard of the Soul Dew in Kanto. Being a passionate rock maniac and collector of rare gems, he had to have gotten word of the discovery by a man working for the Silph Company in Saffron. And if he heard about it, he could have gone looking for it. He wasn't the type of guy to sit back and let a rare stone go.

He'd let me go, but he wouldn't let that damn stone go. Ha. What priorities…

But, still… Steven Stone told me exactly where he was going, didn't he?

I growled, folding the letter back up and stuffing it forcefully into the envelope. "Steven." I put the letter into my pocket, and squeezed the Poké Ball in my other hand. "I have something very important to tell you. But I guess today's not that day."

From the stack of papers on his desk, I grabbed a clean sheet and an uncapped pen. And then I began to write.

* * *

><p>"Dad… have you heard the story of Icarus?"<p>

I poked at the food on my plate, but I hadn't eaten any of it. I hadn't had much of an appetite lately, and I had been spending most of my free time in my bedroom. My mom complained when I took my breakfast upstairs in the morning, and she made it mandatory that I eat dinner downstairs with the family.

It annoyed me—I left home for a long time, so what did a little _more_ time mean to her? At least I was here.

For now. Not that she needed to know anything yet.

And, of course, it bothered me even more that she made me sit downstairs to eat when she wasn't even here herself. Apparently she had plans to go out to eat with Brendan's mom. I hadn't seen _him_ in a long time—I sort of made an effort to stay away from him nowadays. He was nice enough, but I couldn't risk making any more meaningless relationships.

My dad glanced over his newspaper at me, his hesitant movement reminding me that I asked a question at all. He shook his head. "I guess not. I've heard _of_ it. Some foreign story, like a myth or something. Why?"

I shook my head with a small smile, and my dad held the paper back up in front of him so I could only see the top of his head. Of course. I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place—no one was interested in hearing about the story, even if I found it fascinating.

"May?"

He folded up the newspaper and set it down flat on the table between us. Ah. There I was—front page, right above the fold. My own popularity never ceased to amaze me. How I could still make the front page after all of these years, I never understood. One would think the world would get bored with me after awhile.

But even old toys could be good ones.

I stuffed my mouth full of carrots and pointed to my puffed-out cheeks. "Sow-wy, is nuffing," I murmured through my full mouth, and my dad laughed.

"Well, kiddo, if you change your mind…" He ate some of his own carrots, and then he hummed as if he had something to saw. With a gulp, he swallowed without chewing much and miraculously didn't choke. "The weather is supposed to be nice this week. Completely sunny. Your mother and I were thinking about going to the beach."

Something in my chest tightened, and I looked down at my plate and swirled my fork around. "Just you two?" I wondered.

"No, of course you're invited," my dad quickly added, and my body loosened.

"Oh." I pushed my plate forward and looked my dad in the eye—or I would, but he was staring at his plate now. "Sunny all week, huh? Sounds pleasant."

"Yeah." Then, suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Didn't that Icarus story have something to do with the sun?"

My mind flashed to the book on my shelf in my room, to the page in the middle of it with the story of Daedalus and his son. I knew the exact page by heart, and I knew each word almost as well. The single picture illustrating Icarus's demise even presented itself clearly in my head. And there between those pages, my lone piece of paper remained untouched. For now.

"Maybe." I shrugged, and my shoulders tensed with the lie. "I can't remember."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> There was your brief lesson on Greek mythology for the day. There will be a quiz next time.

Until next week! See you then.


	3. Steven Stone

**Chapter Two – Steven Stone**

_**-Three Years Prior to Disappearance-**_

My relationship with Steven Stone was a rocky one—no pun intended. We got along spectacularly, and he had been my mentor almost since the beginning of my journey, whether he realized or viewed himself as that or not. It wasn't as if we encountered each other _that_ frequently, but it was often enough that I looked up to him.

That was the sixteen-year-old me, anyway, and probably the seventeen-year-old me, too, from when I stopped Team Aqua and became the Champion.

But the me now, the nineteen-year-old me, had mixed feelings about him. Certainly those feelings for him differed greatly than, say, my feelings for Wally. I loved Wally, but I didn't exactly have the urge to… well, sleep with him. Whenever I even _saw_ Steven, something in my body just urged me to slam him against a wall and—

Well, that was neither here nor there. And I couldn't, and I hadn't, of course. Things would get complicated that way, more so than they already were. I had no clue how he felt about me without making assumptions, and the most physical contact we ever had was a hug—a very platonic-type hug that hinted to me that he viewed me only as his mentee or friend or whatever. Maybe he _loved_ me, but I wasn't a lover.

The other problem was Steven's flightiness. In the back of my head, I had this strange fear that he might run out on me one day. And who was I to stop him? I had no claim on him.

So, I knew, if he decided to leave me behind, there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop him.

It was like he was both here and far away. Sometimes he committed himself to me, even if just as friends, and sometimes he didn't. Hot and cold. On and off. The whiplash made me crazy and angry, but I still looked at him and saw a good guy. He was absolutely _oblivious_… but still a good guy.

It'd be better this way, anyway. I hoped he might stay oblivious. For his sake even more than mine.

After all, anyone else might have taken advantage already of the fact that I was sprawled out across his bed right now, but he just sat at his desk in the corner of the room with a magnifying glass and a rock. He'd been staring at that thing for over an hour now. I wasn't sure he even looked up when I walked in the room.

I kicked one of my legs up over my other, bouncing it up and down in the air. Not even a flicker of the eyes from Steven.

"Hey, Steven. I have a question for you."

He hummed in response, still not turning around. I stifled a laugh and put my hands behind my head.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Rustboro." I bounced my leg a little harder as I watched Steven's careful work. He put the magnifying glass down and picked up a pencil to scratch something down on a sheet of paper. "My dad still lives in the house where I grew up there, but I haven't been to it in years. Why?"

I hummed this time just to annoy him, but it didn't have the desired effect. We went back to sitting in silence, and I grumbled, kicking my leg down and rolling onto my stomach. The bed creaked, and I hoped that this might make him look up, but he didn't. No surprise there. Like I said: oblivious.

"I'm just curious."

I picked at my fingernails as the room went still and quiet again. Steven Stone would be the death of me…

With a sigh, I flopped back over on my back and then sat up, and his bed creaked again, louder this time. "Do you think we could go?" I asked, like a small child asking to visit the toy shop. "I'm kind of interested in little Steven."

He finally looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. It was funny how simple a motion—just the lift of the corners of his mouth—could make my breath catch.

"What about you?" he asked, clearly avoiding my question.

"You've already seen little May," I countered with a pout, and Steven laughed.

"Sixteen hardly constitutes as little."

I stood up from his bed and turned, straightening out the sheets and fluffing the pillow. By the time I looked back over my shoulder at Steven, he was back facing his desk, bent over as he stared at the rock again through his magnifying glass. I put my hands on my hips, shaking my head a little disappointedly.

Deep down, though, it was just another thing I loved to hate about him.

"Steven." I took a few steps towards him to close the distance between us, and then I knelt right behind his chair. When he spun around, he nearly jumped out of it, we were so close. "Is it so wrong of me to be curious?"

His cheeks burned red like a flame, but he put a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat to smooth it over. "Curiosity killed the cat—"

"But satisfaction brought it back," I interrupted, putting my hands on his knees. "Give me another life to live."

Steven grabbed my hands only to pull them away from his knees. "If you really want to go that badly, I guess I can show you," he agreed tentatively. "But hold on—what time is it?"

I tilted my head back and checked the clock on the other side of the room. "Nearly three."

"Not much time…" he muttered, but he stood up nonetheless, gesturing for me to get up, too. "If we leave now, we can get there by six."

"Wait, you want to go _now_?" When he grabbed my hand and held it this time, I smiled and let him pull me down the hallway. _This _was exactly what I meant about whiplash. "I was thinking, like… next weekend or later. You could call your dad or something, get together with him for an afternoon…"

Steven just shook his head, and he pulled me all the way outside before he dropped my hand. "Now is good. It'll be a closer ride home for you, too."

I didn't argue with him, mostly because this was progress if nothing else. It was better than watching him stare at a rock all day, not that I minded completely.

"Follow behind me," Steven told me as his Skarmory erupted from a Poké Ball.

I nodded, doing as he said and trailing in the skies behind him on my own Pokémon. He kept relatively low to the sea, gliding just high enough over the waves that his Skarmory could reach a talon down and touch them if it tried. I kept a little higher, a certain story sticking out in my head that made me a little nervous.

When we arrived in Rustboro, which felt half a world apart from Mossdeep—Steven couldn't have gotten much further away from his old home if he tried unless he wanted to leave the region—he landed in the front yard of a tiny, albeit beautiful, house on the corner of a long road just outside the city.

"That's it," Steven told me, gesturing lamely to the house with a stoic expression. "Nothing special."

It reminded me a lot of his house in Mossdeep, actually, other than the fact that his didn't have a wrap-around veranda. It made this home seem a little bigger than it probably was, which didn't say that much for it since it was tiny to begin with.

"Can we go inside?"

Steven sighed, not exasperatedly but amusedly, and he nodded. "Yeah. Give me a minute to find the key."

He fumbled through his pockets and then came out with a key ring with only three keys on it—one, I imagined, for his house, one for this house, and one for something else. I wanted to know what the third one was for, but I figured I was prying enough for one day.

We walked up the front steps to the door, which stuck when Steven put the key in the doorknob. "This door has… _never_ worked," he grunted as he kicked the door open. It swung back and hit the wall inside, and I winced. "Oh, shit."

He stepped inside and looked behind the door at the wall, and I followed in closely behind him. "Seems like it's okay," I offered, and Steven nodded.

When the door was shut, I finally glanced around the living room—there wasn't much of an entryway, like Steven's house. And _also_ like Steven's house, the place was sparsely decorated: a sofa, with some poorly-placed rocks on some shelving units right above it, a couple of paintings, and a tiny television with a dial.

"Nice to see my dad hasn't changed anything since, you know, before I was born," Steven muttered dryly, and I laughed.

"It's cute. Amazing, actually," I added, walking towards the sofa and lifting a rock off one of the shelves above it. "Simple. Reminds me of you."

Steven stared at me, not saying anything, but after a moment, he smiled. "I bet if _this_ has never changed…" He held out his hand to me again, and I grabbed it and let him lead me through the house towards a room right beside the only bathroom. "My room."

I burst out laughing when he pushed the door open and I saw what was inside. I hurried in, running a hand over the immature Pokémon comforter that everyone had when we were ten. I must have had a blue one with pictures of Marills on them; Steven's were blue, too, but had little images of Arons.

"Steven!" I cried through giggles. "This is hilarious."

My attention on the sheets was short-lived, though. I noticed out of the corner of my eye some picture frames on the dresser in the corner of the room. But just as I took a step towards it, Steven squeezed my hand more tightly.

"We should go. I don't want my dad to catch us here."

I rolled my eyes. "What are you, fifteen?" I scoffed, and Steven frowned. "Besides, your dad is a really nice guy, Steven."

I faced towards the dresser again, and Steven grabbed my hand with his other now, so he was holding me back with both of his hands. I could see one of the pictures, though not very clearly, from where I stood, and I was fairly certain that there were three people in it.

"Forgive me if I seem rude… and I really don't mean to pry," I began hesitantly. "But what happened to your mother? I don't think either of you have ever mentioned her. Is she still in the picture, or is she…"

"Dead," he answered quickly in a soft voice, and his fingers slipped over mine slowly as he let me go.

"I'm sorry, Steven. I really—"

"It's not a big deal. She died when I was really young. I barely remember her." He walked back towards his bedroom door, but I stood where I was staring at the tiny picture on the corner of his dresser. "May, we should go."

I turned and smiled at him. "Thanks for showing me your room. It's adorable."

"I'd rather you not call it that…" he muttered.

"Super manly," I corrected.

He narrowed his eyes at me but grinned when I laughed again. And just like that—that whiplash—we were back to normal.

It gave me some hope. If anything were to ever happen to me, he would be able to move on. Maybe he'd look back one day and see me as a distant memory, just like that of his mother. It would take time, surely, but one day he'd be able to smile as he remembered my name vaguely in a spot hidden in the back of his mind.

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Two Years Prior to Disappearance-<strong>_

_Dear Steven,_

_I got everything I ever wanted in this world. I dreamed of seeing the world and having a Pokémon of my own. I used to sit in front of the television and pray for the day that I could leave home to start my own adventure._

_My mom promised me that I could go once we moved Hoenn and I turned sixteen. As it went, I got my first Pokémon from Professor Birch the day before my birthday, which was also the first day in Hoenn. The next day she passed me a pair of running shoes and sent me off on my own adventure. And then it was just me, my Torchic, and the world that awaited me._

_I guess I didn't realize how much of a responsibility raising a Pokémon and being off on my own would be. I couldn't go home whenever I wanted. I couldn't ask for money when I needed it. Some nights I slept in the woods at the base of a tree because I couldn't make it to a Pokémon Center before nightfall. The lessons weren't always easy being out there on my own._

_But I still raised my Torchic into the strongest Blaziken in all of Hoenn, surpassing even you. And with that power, I made a name for myself._

_They call me a hero, and every time I hear that, my heart breaks a little bit more. It's been shattered for a long time now. But everyone expects so much of me. Even you. They all think they know me, but what do they know other than what I've told them? As long as they can't read my mind, they know nothing._

_You left me a letter, Steven, and that got me thinking. I have been planning to leave for a couple of years now, and I keep putting it off—first, because I have a few more things I need to do before I go and, second, because I'm terrified of being alone again. But you abandoned me without even telling me, so that makes me better than you. I'll hand this to you myself. Of course, by the time you chase me down, as you'll probably feel an obligation to do, I'll be long gone._

_I had amazing opportunities. I really did. But I don't want to be the hero anymore. I don't want to be stuck in the spotlight. I don't want everyone taking advantage of me._

_I'm tired. So tired._

_I do want to help the world, but I can't see how someone like me can. The world is so broken, so horrible, and for me to try to make a difference would only make it worse. I need someone else to take control._

_Please, Steven. You were the Hoenn region's Champion before me. If anyone can do this, it's you._

_I've designed a bit of a game. It's still in progress as I write this note—by the time I come find you and give you this letter, it'll be ready. So what I say now may change, but the premise will remain. That's what I think, at least. The game is meant to bring you around the country and witness for yourself all that is wrong with us: humanity. I'm going to give you a series of clues, and you need to go to the place where the most recent clue leads to find the next one. The clues are not meant to trick you or lead you astray, so take them as they are._

_Clue #1: The beginning of life is said to be easiest because you cannot remember it. In the far reaches of this place, deep within the shadows, I left a letter where disaster ceased._

_Good luck. I'll miss you. If they… my parents, the world… if anyone starts looking for me, tell them I chose to leave._

_Love,_

_May_

I dropped my pen and rubbed my left hand, which was smudged on the side with ink all the way up to my pinky. It ached. My hand. My heart. I had written so many drafts of this, ever since the first one I crafted at his house that day. It always hurt exactly the same.

A drop of water hit the top page, and I inhaled sharply. No. I wiped my eyes dry, too desperately, too forcefully, and I exhaled all of that air in my lungs until there was nothing left at all. I wasn't brave enough, was I?

What if I was wrong? What if Steven didn't deserve this?

Well, fuck it. I didn't deserve what I got either, but I got it nonetheless. It wasn't as if Steven _had_ to do as I said. Hell, if he really felt nothing for me at all—if he could leave me behind without saying goodbye—then maybe he wouldn't feel anything when I was gone. It would be easier that way, though I wouldn't meet my goal.

The world might not be able to be saved. I didn't know.

I stood up and walked over to my closet, digging through the pile of clothes on the floor until I found the laundry bag in the corner. "Come here," I whispered to it and pulled it free from the tight space I squeezed it into.

My mom was out, and my dad was at the gym… this should be okay.

I poured the contents of the bag out onto the floor, and a multitudinous amount of money bundles fell out. With swift movements, I pushed each one behind me, counting in my head while hoping that I didn't lose track. It had been difficult enough not losing count when I wrapped a couple of them by myself in the first place.

When I finished, I swept the bundles back into the bag and pulled the draw strings. "Almost there…" I hit my hand against the bag and closed my eyes. "I'm almost there."

This was going to be big. This would have to change _something_. Maybe not right away. Maybe not in ten years. But someday, this would be worth it—not for me but for the world. They were the ones who needed help, not me.

But…

There it was. I knew from the moment I started this that I might second guess myself. The feeling wasn't quite the same, though. It wasn't like I was changing my mind… it was more like… I could do something _more_ than this. I could turn this into something so much more, couldn't I? I just hadn't figured out how to do it.

I glanced over at my desk and at the letter to Steven on top of it.

There had been no telling who would stop Team Aqua… I just happened to be a random girl passing through the Petalburg Woods. And if a hero could be made out of a random person like me, then why couldn't a hero be made out of any other random person out there? Didn't fate belong to all of us? Who was I to pick?

What _if_…

I threw the bag and all of my clothes back into the closet and then hurried to the desk. If I was about to make a great mistake, so be it.

"I'm sorry, Steven. If you're the one fate chooses, then I guess…" I trailed off and lifted the letter from my desk. And with shaking hands, I ripped the papers to shreds.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> That letter is the one to which May referred in the final chapter of _Across the Sun_. It contains parts of the first real letter—the clue for instance. But this letter didn't, uh, last very long.

Okay, quiz time! Don't be so surprised, I told you there'd be a quiz. Haha. I'm going by honesty policy here, so don't go back to the last chapter to cheat or anything (feel free to look after). Okay, okay, here we go:

What did Daedalus give to King Minos's daughter to help the king of Athens defeat the Minotaur?

Until next week!


	4. To Whom It May Concern

**Chapter Three – To Whom It May Concern**

_**-Two Years Prior to Disappearance-**_

I pulled the book of myths off my shelf and sat on my bedroom floor with it, slipping the loose piece of paper out from between the pages. My eyes scanned the sheet, seemingly moving with no method, but there was only method on that page. Every single word that I scribbled there, which maybe didn't make sense to the average person, made perfect sense to me.

But I didn't have enough knowledge to do what I wanted to do, especially knowing that this game was about to become ten times bigger than what I imagined on this sheet of paper.

Not to mention, the game wasn't exactly fair. The average person wouldn't be able to get into the Cave of Origin, which was where I originally wanted to send Steven. He'd be lucky if _he_ could get in. And some of the other places I had in mind were going to be even more difficult for a random person to access than that.

No, this was how it had to be. If I wanted the world to change…

I rubbed my temples, closing my eyes for the briefest of moments. It seemed that no matter what I did, I couldn't get myself wide awake these days. And just thinking of all of the work I still needed to do…

If I wanted the world to change, then I would have to put that work in. As they said, I could sleep when I was dead.

And whoever found the first letter would make it happen if it was meant to happen. I wanted a hero. No, I _needed_ one. And only a person who would sacrifice everything like I did was worthy of becoming the world's hero. Even then, maybe nothing would change, or maybe it would just get worse.

The ending of this was foggy, namely because I wouldn't be here to see it, but I still had to _try_ to envision it.

I ran my fingers over that crinkled piece of paper and tried to ignore how violently my hands trembled.

A knock on my bedroom door startled me, and I hastily shoved the paper back inside the book. "Yeah?" I shouted, pushing the book back on the shelf and turning to face the door just as my mom opened it.

"The phone's for you." My mom covered the speaker and leaned it away from her mouth, whispering as she added, "Interview offer. It's a good one."

I sighed. It had been years since I became Champion at this point, even longer since I saved Hoenn, so I didn't exactly understand the fascination with me anymore. But I was an idol, and everyone wanted something shiny and pure to cling to in this day and age. It would be such a tragedy if they ever found out I wasn't as shiny and pure as they thought—

Huh. That would be devastating. A betrayal, even.

I held out my hand to my mom, and she passed me the phone with a smile. She had no clue that I hated these interviews. My dad would _occasionally_ visit the sets with me when I had to go out of town for an interview, but my mom loved going. I used to joke that she should have done the interviews in my place.

"Hello? This is May," I greeted as I pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello, May. This is Vienna from The Daily Buzz. How are you this afternoon?" a pleasant, but likely forced, voice responded. In my head, I pictured a young assistant with long dark hair and stiletto heels sitting at a desk outside her boss's office. She had one of those voices that you could just _tell_ she was beautiful.

I shot my mom a look when I noticed her still standing in the doorway, and she held up her hands guiltily before sneaking out.

"I'm good," I finally answered. Been better. "How are you?"

"Wonderful!" she practically sang into her receiver, and I winced. "I'm calling on behalf of The Daily Buzz because we wanted to offer you a contract for an exclusive hour-and-a-half long interview. This would include a live battle with one of our specialists and then a live interview with our primetime host. The date would be next Tuesday with your arrival at six and the battle at eight. Makeup and outfitting would be included at the studio by our on-set makeup artist and wardrobe specialist."

Well, I had had some pretty all-inclusive interviews before—ones where the makeup artists painted my face with concealer and eyeliner and ones where I wore some pretty outfit that I got to keep afterwards. This was nothing new, except for the battle. But I used to do those for free even before I became Champion, back when I was on the road all the time. Little "Trainer Highlights," they called them.

"We also have a copy of your terms already, but we wanted to discuss payment at this time before we set anything up," Vienna continued, her voice slowing down as if she was searching her desk for my form. "Because this is an exclusive interview of extensive length, there will be questions that have never been asked of you, and we expect before you sign our contract that you agree to answer every question."

"Do I get a list beforehand?" I asked—not that I cared. I could formulate a response for anything regardless of how personal it was, as long as I knew I was getting paid. I gave up awhile ago on conserving myself.

"We will expedite a list of questions and the contract to you, should this offer interest you." I could hear Vienna typing something furiously, probably a note to send the questions ahead of time. "As for the matter of payment, the current offer, if you agree to it, is for five hundred million PokéDollars."

I nearly choked on my own spit as I inhaled and swallowed. "Fi-five hundred _million_?" I croaked. "Did I hear wrong?"

"No, miss, you heard correct. We at The Daily Buzz always choose to compensate stars such as yourself for their very valuable time. Although there is a slight problem that we would like to negotiate with you," Vienna elaborated in a hesitant voice. "It isn't possible for our company to get all of that money in cash as written in your terms. However, if there is anything we can do for you to—"

"Two hundred million, three hundred thousand," I interrupted quickly and desperately. "Can you do that? In one hundred thousand bills? The rest I can take as a check or a wire or whatever you want—I don't care."

"Well…" Vienna paused. "I need to put you on hold. My apologies."

The cheery piano music began almost immediately. I lowered the phone from my ear and sighed, my gaze flickering towards my closet door. With this, I would be exactly where I needed to be. I could finally start putting everything into motion. Any money I earned after this could be put back into my bank account, and no one would ever have to know that I'd been taking anything out.

Now, if only I could get to a library… I laughed, putting a hand against my cheek and smiling. I couldn't believe I was so close now.

"Champion May?"

Vienna's voice coming through on the phone was quiet, and I barely heard it over my giggles. But when I realized the hold music stopped, I lifted the phone back to my face. "Yes?"

"I spoke with our financial coordinator," she explained. "He will be able to meet your terms. The tax for the amount of five hundred million will be taken out on the check, so that amount will be significantly smaller. Is that all right?"

"Yes, that's perfect. Thank you!" I practically shouted. "Um… where is your location?"

"Rustboro. We'll send you the address in the contract."

Rustboro… There was a large library there, probably the best library in all of Hoenn. I could do some of my research there while I waited for Tuesday to come… and there was someone else in Rustboro who I ought to visit, too. _He_ might be able to make things a little bit easier for me.

"No need. I have plans to go to Rustboro for the next week, anyway. I'll stop by your office and sign the contract in person tomorrow," I told Vienna, and my eyes darted towards that same old book on the shelf. "It sounds just perfect."

* * *

><p>I made the decision to visit the Devon Corporation headquarters before making my way over to the Pokémon Center to sleep, if only because I knew staring at books and computer screens all day would make me even more exhausted than I already was if I decided to go to the library first. And as the week went on, regardless of the showers I took at the Pokémon Center, I wouldn't be nearly as presentable as I was right now—Devon deserved to see me at my best.<p>

The receptionist at Devon always showed me the utmost respect, as she did even before I became Hoenn's hero. It was her job, sure, and it probably had something to do with the fact that I knew the president of the company and his son—but I liked that she never treated me like a princess or anything. I was just a guest in the building.

"Hello, May," she greeted me when I walked in. "It's been awhile since we last saw you."

"Yeah, sorry. I've been a little busy," I apologized, even though I knew she didn't really need to hear an excuse.

She smiled nonetheless, folding her hands together and leaning across her desk. "Haven't we all?" she wondered.

Haven't we all… Heh.

I could feel my hands begin to shake, as they often did these days, and I clenched my fingers into fists to try to stop it. "Do you think I could meet with Mr. Stone? I know that he likes to stick to a schedule, but… it's really important. Champion business," I added, and I averted my gaze out of sheer guilt for using that excuse.

"He's on his dinner break right now, actually," the receptionist said, but when I looked back up at her, she jabbed a thumb towards the stairs. "He doesn't mind being interrupted when he's eating—he kind of likes it. Says it keeps him thinner."

I nodded, giving her a tiny wave as I began to sidestep to the stairs. "Thank you."

Mr. Stone was an interesting man, though a great businessman from what I heard. It always surprised me that Steven didn't make more of an effort to see him because the two of them were like the same person. Quirky, obsessed with rocks, wildly talented and intelligent, and just about the kindest people ever.

When I walked into Mr. Stone's office, he was mid-bite of his dinner and dropped his fork with a clatter when he saw me enter.

"May! A pleasure, a pleasure! Come on in. I'm just eating my supper. Do you want something? I can have someone bring you whatever you like," he offered, standing up and waving me over to his desk.

"I'm fine, really." I slid into one of the comfy arm chairs in front of his desk and smiled at him, and he lowered himself back into his seat.

"That's no good. You're barely the size of my pinky." As if to prove this, he held up the chubby pinky of his left hand. "The chef we have here is wonderful, too. Hence why I'm… well, you know." He patted his stomach and laughed, and I chuckled with some awkward obligation along with him.

"I'm not very hungry. Just ate," I lied, and Mr. Stone finally nodded.

He pushed his plate off to the side of his desk and folded his hands together. "Fair enough. Then what can I do for you, May? It's been a long time since I was graced by your company. I'm sure Steven's updates don't do you enough justice. Not much for talking about his relationships, that one. I guess I should consider myself lucky, though, so—"

"Steven and I aren't…" I countered and trailed off, with awkwardness surpassing my laugh just moments ago. "I thought he didn't visit a lot."

"Oh, he doesn't," Mr. Stone admitted far more cheerily than a father who hadn't seen his son in awhile ought to have. "But I call him all the time, probably more often than he'd like… and he'll stop by every once in awhile, too. It usually seems, though, that every other word out of his mouth is about you."

I folded my arms together as my cheeks began to burn, hoping that Mr. Stone wouldn't notice. "Sorry…" I mumbled.

But Mr. Stone only laughed—a thunderous, bubbly laugh that only the kindest old men had. "It's good to hear that my son is interacting with _people_. I don't mind." He rubbed his hands together and then pointed both of his index fingers at me. "And I certainly don't mind that it's the girl who gave him a run for his money."

Ah, but I minded terribly. In one way or another, I was going to break my own heart, and Steven Stone was part of that cause. If he felt anywhere near the same as me, then his heart might get broken in the storm, too. It wasn't fair to him, but it was the reality.

"Mr. Stone," I began, and my shield lowered itself. Suddenly, all of my exhaustion came sweeping back and made my eyelids heavy. "If I asked you to do something for me… something that I won't be able to do myself… would you do it? Not today but… but if I asked… even if it was something completely crazy? Not illegal as far as I know, but…"

"For you? Anything." Mr. Stone leaned forward and put a hand on top of mine. It was warm and soft, and it made my lip tremble. "I will always be happy to do anything asked of me by the Champion and my possible future daughter-in-law if my son ever grows a backbone—"

I yanked my hand away with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"—and if you ever have any concerns, you can always come to me," he concluded loudly, as if to drown out some of what he already said. I couldn't even believe him. "May, there are plenty of people, I think, who would be of service to you if you only asked. You look tired. Disinterested. And don't say it's just adulthood."

I shrugged. "I'm not exactly sixteen anymore."

"True." Mr. Stone smacked the top of his desk and leaned back in his chair, and I feared he might tip over backwards. "Well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Or, better yet, ask Steven first. Not that I'm trying to insinuate anything."

With a smile, I shook my head. No, I wouldn't be able to ask Steven. Hell, after talking with Mr. Stone here today, I'd barely be able to ask _him_.

But I would. When I was ready to go, I'd sell my soul to him.

"Thank you." I stood up and put my hands on my hips, surveying the office. "You know, this place never changes. I hope it's the same the next time I come back." And knowing what I did about Steven's old house, I didn't doubt that it would be.

"Will that be soon?"

I shrugged again, glancing at back of one of the picture frames on his desk and wondering who might be on it. "One more thing." I reached a hand out for the photo, but I stopped myself before I even got close. "Do you know where Steven is right now?"

Mr. Stone smiled a little sadly, his gaze moving towards the picture I just tried to grab. "I'm afraid not. He just told me he'd be out of the region for awhile. He didn't say when he's coming back either."

Well, I was glad I wasn't the only one out of the loop.

Besides… a bit of mystery would be great inspiration for my game.

* * *

><p>I couldn't help but stare into the crowd and wonder if any one of the people coming and going would be the person fate chose to save the world. But whenever I caught someone's eye, I turned my gaze to the ground and hoped that they wouldn't recognize me. If anyone here was the one I needed…<p>

"Wow, you're Champion May, aren't you!"

Feet appeared in front of mine, and I skidded to a stop before crashing into the person who spoke to me. I lifted my head, standing tall with a smile plastered like a porcelain doll on my face. The young man standing in front of me was probably a few years younger than me, but he had doe-eyes and a hopeful grin.

"You're even more gorgeous in person!" the boy exclaimed, and I just stood there, smiled, and took the compliment. "May—can I call you May? You're such an inspiration to me. I decided to become a trainer because of you, and I just came from the Rustboro Gym with my first badge."

He pulled the badge out of his pocket as if I needed the proof of his victory. Something struck the wrong chord with me, though, and my nose scrunched before I could stop myself.

"Are—are you all right?" The boy put the badge back in his pocket and leaned uncomfortably close to me. "Oh, I know. You're hungry, right? You maybe wanna, uh, go get a bite to eat with… with me?"

I managed to smile again, delicate and beautiful, a perfect prize for a teenage boy to brag about to his friends. No matter my answer, he'd still tell the story of how he felt "such an amazing connection" with the Hoenn Champion. His friends might tease him, might not believe him, but it'd be a strong enough lie that this kid would believe it himself.

"I apologize," I said in my charming, cutesy voice, about half an octave higher than my real voice. "I'm afraid I have plans already."

"Oh." Such a dejected, disappointed face… "Can I walk you—"

"Thank you for your very kind offer, but I'll be late if I don't get going right now. Excuse me."

I brushed past the kid, but as I walked, I had a feeling he was following behind me. Whatever. It wasn't like he was going to hurt me or anything. I got followed all the time in bigger cities like this nowadays.

I lost him just past the Poké Mart, and I slowed my steps considerably as I continued my journey to the Pokémon Center. At the very least, I learned my lesson and walked with my head down, sure not to make eye contact with anyone else. I didn't want to have to disappoint any more sixteen-year-olds today.

The Pokémon Center, though, was lively. People tended to have a habit of looking up at the door whenever it opened, so every eye turned on me when I walked in. I still battled frequently enough that my trips to Pokémon Centers weren't so unusual, but maybe my timing was always good. Lately, I'd been a little unlucky.

"Good evening, Ch-Champion," the nurse said nervously as I approached the counter.

I sighed, grabbing the Poké Balls from my bag and handing them to her. "Hi. I'd like them healed, please, and I also wanted to know if you have an open shower."

"You don't want to stay here, do you?" the nurse wondered a little incredulously. She put the Poké Balls onto the machine and typed something into the computer before glancing back up at me. "I'd be happy to call a hotel for you to book a room."

"Here is fine."

"Are you sure?" When I nodded, she smiled weakly. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait. There's only one shower and a bit of a line."

She put my Pokémon back up on the counter, and I took the balls and stuck them in my bag once again. "Okay, thanks," I muttered and then turned to go take a seat.

But just because I was sitting didn't mean I could relax. A couple of people came up to me and asked for autographs; a few more people thought starting a conversation with me would be a good idea when I was clearly tired and disinterested, just like Mr. Stone said. Others just stared at me from across the room.

After enduring this for about an hour without having made any progress on the shower situation, I finally stood up with a huff. "I changed my mind," I told the nurse. "Thanks for your help."

"Do you want me to call?" she practically shouted as I turned and walked out the front door without responding.

But instead of walking to the nearest hotel—I wasn't even quite sure where that was—I headed south of the city towards the woods. At night, the forest turned quiet and peaceful, and only the sound of Wurmples crying broke the silence.

I settled beneath a rather large tree away from the tall grass, but I released my Blaziken beside me all the same.

"Hey, pretty birdy," I whispered to him, smoothing his feathers with the most genuine smile I could manage. It pecked at my nose, a playful nip like a kiss. "Do you mind giving me a little bit of light? I'm not sure I can sleep just yet." Flames burst from his wrists, and I brushed some more of his feathers. "You know you're the best. Th-thank you."

Just like that, I burst into tears, burying my face in my hands and sobbing loudly into them. Blaziken nudged me with his head, cawing concernedly, but that only made me cry more.

"Sorry," I finally breathed, lifting my head and wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.

With some hesitancy, I pulled a stack of papers and a pencil out of my bag and pressed the lead against the page on top. Steven's face was the one that stood out in my mind, but I tried to push him away. I could hope all I wanted for it to be him—because who else could it possibly be—but as soon as I wrote these very first words, it would be out of my hands completely.

The sound of my pencil scratching against the white paper made the hairs on my arms stand up, though not in a bad way. It was the high note in a piece of music sung so beautifully that it gave the listener shivers. This pencil, as it moved up and down, forward across the page, resonated like the most powerful piece of music ever composed.

_To whom it may concern_, I wrote as more tears slipped down my cheeks. And then the song continued into the still night.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Mr. Stone ships May and Steven. That is all.

Five hundred million Pokédollars (essentially yen) seems like a lot, I'm sure (I mean, it is, considering I can never hope to make that much, LOL), but thinking what some of these celebrities make… you know, for an exclusive interview, it's probably not that much.


	5. The Villain

**Chapter Four – The Villain**

_**-Two Years Prior to Disappearance-**_

"Oh, man, sleeping in the woods against a tree isn't nearly as comfortable as I remember it," I grumbled as I pushed myself to my feet—with more difficulty than I should have had for a twenty-year-old—the following morning. Blaziken blinked up at me and yawned. "I know, it's probably way too early." I glanced at my PokéNav hanging on a pocket of my bag. "Seven. But, you know, the sun is up, so I might as well be up, too."

I looked towards the sky, a canopy of trees above us. Through the leaves, the warm rays of sunlight peeked through and speckled the ground. There was a light breeze, which didn't quite make it to us through the thick tree trunks and bushes, but I could tell that it was going to be a beautiful day. And that made it as good a day as any to spend inside at the library.

"You think The Daily Buzz office is open?" I asked Blaziken, and he yawned again. "You lazy bum. You're no help."

He clicked his beak happily, and I rolled my eyes. I spoiled my Pokémon way too much, and the consequence of that was starting to rear its ugly head. Ha, but I loved my Pokémon. I'd continue to spoil them until the day I died, and then they'd have to fend for themselves. I didn't know how exactly… maybe I could leave them to Steven to babysit like he did with his Beldum.

"You like Steven, don't you?" I scratched under Blaziken's chin and smiled when fiery sparks started spitting from its wrists. "He would take such good care of you guys if I asked him to. But… I can't imagine what he'd say to me if I _did_ ask." I sighed as Blaziken pulled himself away from me and jumped up to its feet. "I'll figure something out. Leave you guys sitting on my desk at home and hope he comes stumbling in…"

My Pokémon nudged me, and I frowned. I didn't have the guts to explain to any of my team what I planned, and I doubted that they'd understand.

"His heart is in the right place," I continued, kicking at the ground and swinging my bag over my shoulder. "He's always been a much better person than I am. When he helps people, he does it because he wants to, not out of obligation." I smiled up at Blaziken, and it clicked its beak again in response. "To think if I hadn't been there, he probably would've been the one to stop Team Aqua. I couldn't wish that on him."

I didn't say any more, if only because my heart began to ache again. Instead, I sent Blaziken back into its Poké Ball, holding it carefully in my hands for a moment. For some reason, I always thought I could sense Blaziken's heat from its tiny home, but that was never the case with any other Pokémon I ever caught.

I tucked Blaziken away in my bag pocket and began to head out. I walked all the way to The Daily Buzz's office thinking about Steven and what he'd say to me if I asked him to take care of my Pokémon, which brought a tiny smile to my lips that would look strange to anyone passing by. I tried to focus on something else—_anything_ else—but all I could think about was him.

"Are you taking a vacation or something?" he'd wonder innocently, and if I said yes, he would start freaking out about how to be a good babysitter. "Um, well, what should I do for them? Should I get them special food, or will regular food suffice? Oh, and how often do you groom them? Hmm, if only I had a bigger house… Metagross will be happy to see them, though. It's been a long time since I let it out to play, which is, of course, my fault because I'm always busy doing something…"

I giggled to myself and breathed into my hands. I was really going to miss him…

The center of town was surprisingly lively for seven o'clock in the morning, so I straightened up and continued my trek with a straight face. Men in suits and women in skirts or pant suits walked desperately to their destinations, as if there was some sneaky Growlithe lighting fires behind them. I really wondered if they'd be late if they slowed down to a reasonable pace, but then again, they weren't so far behind that they had to run.

The Daily Buzz, in comparison to the hustle and bustle of downtown Rustboro, felt slow. Devon Corporation and this place were a lot alike in that no one really looked twice when I walked in, but the people at Devon knew me well enough that they didn't have to. These people just looked… tired.

Well, not that I could blame them.

"Um, good morning." I put my hands on the elevated counter in the back of the entryway and smiled at the young woman behind it. "I'm here to see Vienna. I have a contract to sign. She should know that I'm coming. Well," I added, "she _might_ not know that I'm coming here _now_—well, that I _am_ here now—but I told her today. Some time. Which I guess is right now."

The lady behind the counter furrowed her eyebrows, and I was tempted to explain that I was far more eloquent in front of a camera. But she pressed a button before I could say anything and gestured to the opening doors to the left of the counter.

"Take the elevator to the second floor. Vienna's desk is right in front down the hall."

I thanked the woman and hopped into the elevator, sighing as the doors shut and leaning back against the wall. All I wanted to do was get the contract signed and go to the library. If only time could move a little faster… or did I want it to slow, deep down, because I didn't want the end to come?

When the elevator dinged and opened its doors, I noticed a woman sitting at a desk at the end of the long hallway in front of me. Well, according to the lady at the frost desk, that had to be Vienna.

I began walking with quick footsteps, like those people outside, but as I got closer to the end of the hall, I slowed near to a stop.

The woman on the phone didn't look anything like I pictured her to be. The girl I pictured in my head was young and a beauty equal to her voice—she was fashionably sensitive with a sleek appeal to her, like a model out of a magazine who was only here because it was the next step to a bigger and better career.

Instead, the woman sitting here, right behind the large plaque with the name Vienna Levine—a name that sung like her voice—was an older, frumpy woman. Her gray hair, tied up loosely into a bun, was dry, and her skin had creased with time's scars. She could have very well been my grandmother, leaning more into retirement age than middle age.

"Hi," I greeted her carefully, unsurely, and the woman looked up from her computer at me. "Are you… Vienna?"

"Oh, my goodness, yes," she chimed, in the same beautiful voice I heard over the phone, and I furrowed my eyebrows. She stood up and held a veiny hand out to me, and I grasped it delicately. "Champion May. My apologies. In the morning, I tend to get so into my work that I lose track of everything around me. We don't usually get visitors this early in the day."

I was completely wrong. My first impression of her as this young beauty had been shattered completely. What would I have thought if this was my first time speaking with her? I certainly wouldn't have been so flabbergasted.

"It's my fault," I told her with a smile, abandoning my confused misjudgments and getting back into character. "I should have called you this morning to let you know I was coming over."

"No, no, I should be more attentive when someone is walking down the hall right in front of me." Vienna smiled, making her skin crease even more. "Champion May, would you like me to get you a fresh pair of clothes?"

I blinked, taken aback by her question, but then I took a moment to glance down at myself. I probably should have cleaned up before heading over here, and now that I thought about it, I really had to go to the bathroom, too. But even more of a problem were my clothes: sleeping outside and against a tree had splotched my clothes brown with dirt.

"Oh." I looked back up at Vienna and laughed, waving a hand at her. "No, no. I have another pair of clothes with me. I just like to… travel light. Bit of an expert at it." I held up my bulky bag for a brief second, and when it settled back at my side, I patted it. "But do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Not at all. Just around the corner there. First door on the right." Vienna jabbed her thumb towards the left of her desk, and I nodded before walking off.

For a place with five hundred million to blow on a single interview, their bathroom was nothing to write home about. That was usually how you could tell how classy a joint was, at least from my experience. The nicest places always had the nicest bathrooms. Not that it really _mattered_, but it made me wonder why.

I slipped out of my dirty clothes and into my second set—my only other set. I figured I could go a few days in each and none would be the wiser, but I'd probably have to wash the first set tonight, meaning I'd probably have to deal with the Pokémon Center for the night.

I started to scrub out some of the dirt stains when the door flung open, and a young woman—one who could have been the Vienna I envisioned on the phone—entered the room. She stopped dead in her tracks, though, when she noticed my reflection in the mirror, and slowly her mouth narrowed into a tiny oval.

"You're…" The girl quickly ran a hand through her hair and then held that same hand out at me. "Champion May, it's such an honor."

I shook her hand out of obligation and then stuffed my damp, still dirty clothes into my bag. "The honor is mine. It's so amazing to be here," I told her, and in my head I laughed at myself. Even that sounded forced. "Are you…"

She shook her head frantically, as if she knew where I was going with my unfinished question. "Oh, no. I'm just an intern. I mean… I do _some_ interview and camerawork, but… I mean, for the really important interviews like yours, I just observe and take notes and stuff." She smiled then, and I couldn't help but see a bit of myself in her. She was probably my age, anyway. "I'll have my chance someday."

An idea flashed through my head then, an image of that scrap of paper sitting between the pages of the book in my bag forming. Well, to be fair, the idea first came into being yesterday—the moment I considered how the world might react if I wasn't the hero they thought I was. But suddenly it grew as quickly as it came, my mind twisting a simple concept into part of the puzzle I now tried to put back together.

"Well, you know…" I started carefully, holding my chin between my thumb and index finger in an attempt to seem thoughtful. "I'm actually looking for a small crew to create a… a documentary. On…"

I paused. On what? Not on me _specifically_…

My concern this morning over the fate of my Pokémon after I left came to mind next, and I smiled. "On the mistreatment and abandonment of Pokémon," I decided, and the girl's eyes widened slightly. "I don't even know where to start looking, you know, but if you wanted to take on a project like this…"

"It sounds so interesting!" the girl exclaimed, and her tiny hands curled into fists. "I would love to, and I'm so honored that you would ask me. But… I don't think I'm allowed to, you know? I'm just an intern."

"For now," I pointed out, and then I turned back to face the mirror and brushed some hair out of my face. The girl stared at my reflection, and I smiled to hers. "When do you finish? If you're still interested in helping me out, I'll wait until you're done."

Maybe it all sounded too good to be true. She didn't know me, and I didn't know her. So why would I offer this to someone of her skill level, just a girl I met in a bathroom, without having some ulterior motive? Honestly, this whole thing was one big ulterior motive, but if she was vain enough to accept it just because of my name… well, that was her own problem.

"In a few months but…" The girl trailed off, clearly unsure about this. Good girl.

I reached into my bag and came out with one of the many pieces of paper I brought with me and a pen, and I scribbled down my name and number on it. Could she sell it? Sure. But it wasn't like my name wasn't already in the system here. If she really wanted to find me, she could. Vienna had, right?

"Here you go. Just think about it. Give me a call when you finish if you want." I passed the paper to her, and she stared down at it with a slack jaw. "I can offer you a competitive salary, too. Oh, and if you know any other people who might be able to help me out…"

"I do. I have friends who are finishing their internships soon, and I'm sure they'd like a start up job," the girl said quickly, hanging on to this while she still could. I couldn't help but feel like I was manipulating her, and I wondered if I was half the problem with this world. "I'll call. I will. This sounds great."

I smiled, my teeth bared, and the girl grinned back. "That's great! I'm so glad I ran into you—um…"

"Ines."

"Well, thank you, Ines. I'll let you… get to what you came in here to do," I said with a chuckle, and Ines went red. "I can't wait to hear from you."

I hurried back over to Vienna's desk, nearly getting lost along the way because I couldn't remember which way I came in, and tried to calm my sudden shaking. Maybe it was excitement—something new to cross off my list, something new to _think_ about. But the more I delved into my plan to save the world, the more I considered how everything would change if I went through with it.

Well, fuck that, too. Everything already changed. At least this was a step forward, whether the direction was right or wrong.

As Vienna slid the packet of obligations towards me, I signed the contract without even reading the questions. "I insist," she told me. "You can make any corrections or—"

But I held up a hand and my pen and signed my life away for that last bit of money and the check that would be probably be sent back around to Ines. They could ask me for my bra size, for all I cared, or who I slept with recently, and it didn't make a lick of difference. I just needed the paycheck.

Like those people outside, a fire lit behind me and rushed me out of the office once the contract went back to Vienna with the promise of seeing me next week. My footsteps were forceful and determined on the walk to the library, which very well could have been the reason why no one approached me.

It was a beautiful space, the library. I found Rustboro's architecture so unique. Even the Devon Corporation building reminded me of an old church or castle, and it was likely the newest building in the city aside from the Pokémon Center and mart, which all looked the same and ruined the aesthetic a little.

The library blended in, though—the four-leaf clover amongst all of its three-leaf counterparts. It stood as strong and beautiful as Devon's building, but it was the hub of knowledge here. And I could only hope that all of the answers I sought would be found within.

For eight o'clock in the morning, the place was surprisingly busy. I didn't spend time people watching, though. I darted straight into the bookshelves, pulling tourist guides down and carrying them under my arm until I made it to a computer desk in the back of the building where no one might ever find me.

I put the guide books down on the floor and swung my bag down on the chair. The bulky thing weighed an awful lot, but I alleviated some of that as I pulled my myth book out and set it down on the table beside the computer. The folded piece of paper within it stuck out on the side, nearly torn. My fingers caressed the pages as I opened the book wide, like a trap waiting to clamp down on an unsuspecting foe. The loose leaf shifted a little but didn't escape entirely, and it would be trapped again in hours, maybe less, until tomorrow.

My handwriting from a few years ago didn't differ greatly from my handwriting yesterday, which was when the latest of the chicken scratch appeared on the page. But I was familiar enough with the page and my mind to know when each idea formulated.

The very first: _give to charity_. That was when I was young and naïve and thought that giving to people who needed it was enough to make the world a better place.

When I grew up a little, I wrote the second: _divide up one billion PokéDollars among one thousand people_.

Why? It was a stupid idea on the surface. How would that help the world?

Well, maybe it wouldn't. But I didn't need money where I was going, and wasn't it better to think that someone out there could make a difference? It could be the start some random person needed to get off on their own two feet.

Random. I liked that. From the start, somewhere in the confines of my head, I always wanted this to be one big mess of people being heroes when they didn't know they could. It was stupid for me to have thought of Steven alone at the start when really this game I wanted to play was for the whole wide fucking world.

_Letters_. _Cave of Origin. Ever Grande. Hoenn to Unova to Sinnoh to Kanto to Johto. My home. Tasks. Adventurer!_

This was where the guide books would come into play. I didn't know enough about the other regions, save for Johto, to send someone off on an adventure and do things, my tasks, at each location.

But my Adventurer… I liked that. Not my hero. It was long past time to save me. "Adventurer" left a little… mystery.

The latest scrawl was squeezed into a corner and circled, and I ran my fingers over the messy, hurried writing. Ines, the intern I met at The Daily Buzz, would be my savior if she followed through and decided to help me out.

_Be the villain._

If I couldn't be the hero anymore, then I might as well make myself the enemy for the good Adventurer to reveal to the world.

I smiled and trapped the paper between the pages again. And when I leaned over and grabbed the top guide book off my pile, my heart beat wildly. Was this what Icarus felt like when he began to fall? He knew it was hopeless, that his wings wouldn't work, and all he could do was accept his fate?

What a fall from grace. I could only hope mine was as memorable.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Aside from all the stuff at the end, there are a lot of little references in this chapter to letters May wrote. If you caught them, awesome! If not, it's okay. Not going to (hopefully) affect your experience reading this story, haha.


	6. Letters

**Quick note: It seems like some of you may have missed the previous update and may be confused by this one. If so, please be aware and go back and read the previous chapter!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five – Letters<strong>

_**-Two years prior to disappearance-**_

It came to me as I began to write the second letter, the one that would go in the Cave of Origin and would lead my Adventurer to Ever Grande, that there would be people who would go through my trials simply for the sake of getting a reward at the end. There wouldn't be one, other than the satisfaction of helping the world. But finding me? Thinking he or she or they would find me?

I needed to test them, even more than just seeing if they could get into the Cave of Origin and the Hall of Fame, which would be feasible with some sly of hand. But getting past me wouldn't be quite so easy. How much could a person take when constantly questioning why they would even bother to save the girl who wished the world might have just fallen and saved her the trouble?

_I should have let us all drown_, I wrote, and suddenly I felt alive again. Maybe, deep down, I actually believed that. It would have made my life easier. Shorter… but certainly easier.

_If you hate me now, good. You shouldn't idolize an ignorant girl who wants you all dead. And you certainly shouldn't idolize a stupid girl who flew too close to the sun._

Perfect. I wanted, more than anything, for the Adventurer to hate me. It would make the whole thing so much more painless for all of us, though somehow I'd have to let the façade fade at some point. I would have to open up and share all of my secrets once I knew that I had the Adventurer for the long haul.

But for now…

Well, I felt a little guilty about the jab I made towards Steven towards the beginning of this letter, which was probably unnecessary. I had been thinking about him nearly nonstop since he left and even more so since I met with his dad yesterday. And that just made me… well, a little frustrated. I wanted him gone from my head.

And somehow as I moved onto my next letter, the one that would go by the exit of Victory Road, he wove his way into my words again. But it was his dad who was the more important player in this game, in the one big cycle of Stones. I figured that I could trust Mr. Stone with the answers. The _why_. Why I decided to do this, why I hid… Mr. Stone wouldn't ask any questions. He wouldn't even open that envelope.

_There is a room at the very end of the Elite Four, past all four members and the Champion, called the Hall of Fame, where all the champions' data are recorded for all time. The room is never used except when a new challenger becomes Champion. Get into this room. Behind the computer, stored safely away where no one would ever look, is a wall panel. Open the panel, take what is inside, and bring it to Rustboro City. Meet with the CEO of Devon Corporation and give him the package. He'll know what to do. Once you do that, he will give you your next clue._

Oh, I was counting on Mr. Stone so much… But I just knew that he wouldn't let me down.

And, hell, I couldn't have asked for a better time for Steven to leave the region. I could go into the Hall of Fame up at Ever Grande without having to explain myself—because the Elite Four would never ask.

As for that panel behind the computer… well, I snooped. After beating Steven a couple of times, he finally waved me off one day. "Go register yourself," he told me, all with a smile despite his exasperated tone. And I fled into the backroom where I happened upon the panel out of curiosity. A perfect little hiding place for a big old bag of cash.

That was the point of all of this, after all—the reason why I did all of these ridiculous interviews, the reason why I was lingering behind. That money could be a fresh start for someone, just like it would be a fresh end for me.

I dropped my pen and shook out my hand. With a sigh, I pulled another piece of paper off the small stack I brought with me. The fourth letter. This would be the one I would have to give to Mr. Stone. And that meant that my Adventurer went through with my first task, the one I spent years trying to prepare. They deserved answers.

Answers that I would be all too happy to give my hero.

_Of course, the truth of the matter is that—by the time you get this letter—I still left, and I know that people are looking for me. Perhaps that is a decision that would appear not well thought through, but let me assure you that it was. I don't want to be the one called the hero anymore. I did my job. I don't want to publicize what I've done, and I never expected that to happen the first time. I did what anyone else would have done but was unable to do._

_Which leads me to an explanation of this task. I was able to take advantage of an opportunity—I was given a Pokémon, and I worked hard with my team to become the best trainer I could be. I strongly believe that giving people opportunities will yield positive results. Had I not been able to stop Team Aqua, someone else would have stepped up to the plate. But the reason I was able to do so was because I was given a Pokémon._

_I wanted to give back all of the money that I had accumulated over the years. The people who choose to waste that gift will still give it to someone else in the end, feeding it back into the system. But I am willing to bet that there are going to be some who will do great things with that money. I don't need it to do what I want to do, so I want someone else to have that opportunity._

_I left behind one billion PokéDollars, which—admittedly—is just part of my savings. So as not to raise suspicions, I have been taking money out of my account for several years, one-hundred thousand PokéDollars at a time. I know bank accounts are often the first things that the police look into when someone disappears, so I started early. As soon as I reached one billion dollars, I put my plan into motion._

_Indeed, Adventurer. This was the first step of my plan, and this was put into motion around the same time that I became Champion. I began writing the letters almost two years ago (from the time I disappeared), and a year later I began planting them all over the country. At least, that is what I have in mind as I sit here writing this letter... I have put a lot of planning into this, so I hope you choose to continue forward._

It was odd to be writing about things that had not yet happened, but it all came together so concretely in my head and in my notes, far more than just a dream. I more or less had my billion now, thanks to The Daily Buzz, and everything could start. In a year, since I still had to wait to make the movie, I'd leave this region and start putting these letters where they belonged, and the research I would do this next week would tell me exactly where to go. That would give me plenty of time to travel and return, and then it would still be long enough for me to come back and act like nothing changed before I left.

Well… before I died.

That was the reality of the situation. I could always leave and never return, and none would be the wiser. But no matter where I went, someone might know my name. No matter where I went, someone would remind me that I saved the entire world, not just Hoenn. No matter where I went, I would remember.

I wanted to forget. I would try my hardest to survive, to _hope_ that the Adventurer might come for me and show me a new world. But I had to admit that success of my crazy scheme might be a bit too much to ask for.

I would wait. And wait. And wait. Sometimes hope was all any of us could hold onto, so I would.

We all died, anyway. Occasionally, though, the pain just killed some of us a little faster.

I swallowed the thought and shook my head again. Where next? That was all I wanted the Adventurer to do in Hoenn, which meant that I'd be sending them off to Unova. I didn't know much about Unova, but I _did_ know that their most famous landmark was Pokéstar Studios. It might be too good to be true…

"I'm counting on a bunch of strangers," I laughed to myself, and I pulled the Unova guidebook up onto the desk. If Ines followed through, it would be golden. And if the Adventurer followed my plans, well, even better.

Now I was about to rely on another stranger.

"Stu Deeoh." I ran my finger under his name in the book, scribbling it down on a piece of scrap paper. According to the book, Stu Deeoh made his name after directing an award-winning drama with international popularity. He began running Pokéstar Studios over twenty years ago, and it quickly rose to be one of the powerhouses of television and film entertainment.

If I wanted my 'documentary' to be screened, Mr. Deeoh would be the go-to guy.

But there had to be something else to this. I didn't know much about business, but I knew not to go making offers without something to make it a little more interesting. No, not just interesting. This had to _do_ something—and something more than turn me into a villain. Otherwise there would be no point to it.

"The mistreatment and abandonment of Pokémon." That was what I told Ines, wasn't it? What if…

I opened up an Internet browser on the computer and typed quickly into the search engine. _Pokémon Palace_ was the first item to pop up on the list, and I clicked the link to be brought to their site.

_Pokémon Palace is a non-profit organization with locations currently in Unova, Hoenn, and Kanto. Our mission is to provide a safe and comfortable home for sick and abandoned Pokémon with the hope of helping them become independent again. With the increase of the amount of trainers abandoning Pokémon, we cannot take in every case. We appreciate any and all donations so that we may support all Pokémon and expand our locations._

Perfect. I couldn't ask for anything better—the Adventurer would be going right up against me.

But I couldn't stop there. If Stu Deeoh got a screening set up and the movie became popular… well, I could help _people_, too. The Soup Kitchen… yeah. The Pokémon Palace and the Soup Kitchen. One hundred percent of the proceeds…

No, Deeoh wouldn't go for it unless he could make something off of it, right?

He still could if he got endorsements and advertisements. And if the movie was controversial enough, if it really made me the villain, then he might be willing to show it regardless. How much would it cost him to show a movie that was already pre-produced, that wouldn't require anything except a projector?

I tapped my pencil against the desk and then scribbled a clue to Pokéstar Studios onto my previous letter before beginning the next one. The Adventurer would take this reel, which I would hide somewhere within the studio, and deliver it to Stu Deeoh. But he needed an explanation, too.

Which meant another letter—one _not_ for the Adventurer.

_Dear Mr. Deeoh,_

_You've probably heard of Champion May from Hoenn. She became famous nearly overnight for stopping the world from flooding. I'm not sure how news travels in Unova, but Champion May is missing. The beloved young champion, missing._

_This film will be a wild success if you show it, so I would consider it. But there's a catch: the Adventurer, likely the one who brought this film to you, requests that all proceeds from this movie be split 50/50 to the Pokémon Palace and the Soup Kitchen in the name of the Adventurer._

_Think about it. Watch it, give it a chance. You won't regret it._

I didn't sign it. He didn't need to know it was from me—because who knew what he would do with that—but I didn't really know who it ought to be from if _not_ me. It wasn't as if I knew the Adventurer yet, so I couldn't write as their personality without knowing. It was just better off left ambiguous.

I added this letter to my pile of papers, which was slowly growing into a generous stack, while my collection of blank pages in my bag began to dwindle. Suddenly, the realization of what I was doing hit me, and I put my head in my hands. I really was going to do this, wasn't I? Why else put in the effort?

Something tapped me softly on the back, and I lifted my head and glanced back. "Um, excuse me." A timid young man folded his hands together and frowned. "I'm afraid the library is closing."

"Already?" I demanded, and then I looked at the clock on the computer. No, it was later than I thought. How had time flown so quickly? "Oh. Well, do you mind if I use the bathroom before I leave?"

The young man agreed, and I packed up all of the books, did my business, and carried everything to the front desk. Sure enough, the librarians were shutting everything down, and half the lights in the building had already been turned off, leaving the library eerily lit.

"Can I leave these here? I'm coming back tomorrow and using the same sources, but I don't want to check them out. I'm afraid I have nowhere to put them if I do." I gestured to my full bag and smiled at the librarian behind the front desk. She eyed my pile, and then she laughed and nodded.

"Of course. Can I just have a name to put them under?" she asked, but when her eyes met mine, her smiled faded gradually into a frown. "Oh, forgive me, Champion May. I didn't realize it was you."

I waved her off, like I always did, and shrugged. "No worries. Thanks for holding them. I'll be back tomorrow."

I headed out, and when the doors shut behind me, I sighed. Back to the woods where no one would know me. Back to the woods where I could be alone, and maybe the voices in my head might go away, too.

* * *

><p>Things were a little different when this all began, but I could hardly remember a time when I wasn't constantly angry with the world or with someone—or a time when I didn't have to plaster on a smile when all I really wanted to do was escape.<p>

But I had vivid recollection of why this all began. It wasn't the day I got my Torchic or the day I left home or the day I beat my first gym. All that became fuzzy in my head over time, but I recalled perfectly defeating the Team Aqua grunt in the Petalburg woods where I now slept and being summoned by Mr. Stone to do some favors.

And that was how I got wrapped up in Team Aqua's affairs. It made me shake with rage just thinking about it, but I had to be fair and admit some good things also came as a result of that one simple day. I couldn't have known at the time what a catalyst it would be, but it was a catalyst for change all the same.

The bad things were obvious. But the best thing of all that resulted from my meddling was meeting Steven.

He probably remembered it a little differently than I did. As a relatively new trainer, I didn't have much confidence in myself, even less so in finding strangers in the middle of caves. And Mr. Stone didn't exactly give me much to go off of: just a name and a letter, the first letter that ever made a difference.

When I found Steven carving at a wall in the depths of the cave, he didn't even look up. "Hello? Are you Steven?" I asked, and my voice echoed in the small enclosure. But the young man still didn't even glance up, so I tried again a little more loudly. "Hello? I'm looking for a man named Steven!"

Nothing.

But the lack of reaction made me smile—a genuine smile that I didn't get to use much _these_ days.

Slowly, I reached a hand out, and when I tapped Steven on the back, he jumped nearly a foot off the ground. The rock he had been trying to excavate cracked into two pieces and fell to the earthy floor, and Steven jumped backwards to avoid it hitting his feet.

"Damn it," he muttered, and he nearly pushed me to the floor as he stumbled back, surely not realizing I was right behind him. I took a few steps back, too. When he turned around, I noticed the headphones he was pulling out of his ears.

But he looked so fierce, so hot and bothered, that my heart momentarily stopped. I continued to scamper away, stopping only when I backed into a wall.

I realized now that his expression was completely uncharacteristic of his personality, but at the time when I didn't know him at all, I admitted myself frightened. There I was, a young girl of sixteen, face-to-face with a man who I just scared and made break the stone he was trying to get. And that he looked angry with me freaked me out.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, bowing to him as if to beg forgiveness. He raised his eyebrows, which I thought odd, but I stayed bowed. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Um, well, uh, should I—" I stopped and frowned. "Well, I don't know how to carve rocks out of the wall, so I don't think I would be very much help trying to get you a new one. But I'm sorry!"

I expected him to yell at me, but he broke out into laughter. Thinking back now, I realized Steven mastered that whiplash long ago, the bastard.

"That's what I get for being so into my work. It's my fault that I'm such a rock maniac," he told me, and then he smiled at me as I stood tall again.

He had always been a handsome man. There was something about his unkempt hair and his light blue eyes, which I could see even in that dimly lit cave, that was wildly attractive. He probably had no idea, given his obliviousness. But he was only nineteen or twenty at the time I met him, and even then, he was beautiful.

So when I smiled back at him, I suddenly felt unequal—a silly little girl with a letter, a stupid girl for thinking he'd give me the time of day.

At the same time, though, I also felt I had something to prove.

"You wouldn't happen to be Steven, would you?" I asked, and when he nodded, I held out the letter to him. "It's from a, um, Mr. Stone in Rustboro… of, uh, Devon Corporation."

I was an idiot. As I leaned back against the same tree as yesterday, with Blaziken curled up against my side, I laughed at the memory of my idiocy. Well, it wasn't like I _knew_. But name-dropping like that in front of Mr. Stone's son? How embarrassing…

"So, you've met my dad?" His eyes glowed with amusement, and I imagined I probably wanted to throw up at that point from the embarrassment, but I luckily couldn't remember the feeling much. "I should have known: that PokéNav you have there hasn't been released to the public yet." He pointed to the device Mr. Stone gave me back at Devon that currently hung off my bag. "Didn't he tell you that this was for his son?"

That would have been helpful, but knowing Mr. Stone as I did now, I wasn't exactly surprised that he skipped out on the details.

"He just said it was for Steven, sir," I told him, and he laughed once more.

"Don't call me 'sir.' I'm not that old," he responded, and even though he was joking, I looked away. I was really such an idiot then.

Then again, Steven was the one with the shitty sense of humor.

It probably bothered him, too, in any case, because he tore open the letter and began reading it without another word. His eyes widened at the end of the note, and he looked up at me with that piercing gaze of his.

"Well," he finally said, and he put the letter into his jacket pocket. "You deserve something for coming all the way here. Want some granite?" He gestured to the rock that I made him crack, but I could only smile awkwardly at him. I still felt pretty bad about it—not anymore, but back then, it really bothered me for a good while. "I'm only joking. Here: Steel Wing, my favorite move."

He reached into his other pocket and came up with a small disk, and I held my hands up in front of me. "I can't—"

"Sure you can. You just did."

Somehow, I _did_. I blinked and ended up holding the disk, and he still smiled at me. He was a freaking Teddiursa, that man. How I ever found him scary baffled my mind…

"I'm sure I'll see you again. I bet you might be able to challenge the champion someday. You seem to be quite capable," he encouraged me. Ha, the poor guy would be eating his words. I almost felt guilty about taking the title from him. "Anyway, I have to be off now. Thanks for the letter from my dad—make sure he pays you back for doing his dirty work for him, okay?"

Ah, the dirty work never ended. But it was that dirty work that led me to Steven, the light in the darkness, the one good thing in a heap of bad.

Well… if anyone had to break my heart, I was glad it would be Steven. If it was him, the pain might be worth it in the end.

* * *

><p>Day after day passed in that library, and my hand became stained gray from writing all those letters. So many of them addressed things that hadn't yet happened, and for me to write about them made me wonder if the idea was bigger and better than the execution would be. My movie, for one, which I called phenomenal. It could turn out horrific.<p>

But that was why I wrote with pencil. Anything could change. I could throw out these letters and write new ones once things got moving, and the Adventurer would never even know. That was the beauty of it… or something like that.

I couldn't find anything else worthwhile in Unova, so I brought the Adventurer to Sinnoh from Pokéstar Studios. Hell, that whole thing could wipe the poor person out. It was only fair that I give them a little time to do what they wanted in Unova and _then_ go to Sinnoh. What was a game without a little fun, anyway?

Eventually, though, the Adventurer would have to make it to Sinnoh. As I researched the regions, I found an interesting story about the possibility of a Distortion World and its connection to the etchings in the Celestic Ruins. I didn't know if I believed the story—but if time could stop or move faster, wouldn't that be nice?

If time could be given away, though… that would be even nicer. What if I could give my time to Steven, so that he might live forever while I faded away?

My Adventurer would have to give some time. That was the next task, I decided, as I read the story of Giratina and the other Sinnoh legendaries. The choice would belong to the Adventurer—whatever they wanted to do with their time, I would support them. Because I would give away all of my time if I could.

The week somehow ended, time moving too quickly, before I could finish all of the letters. I did, however, finish planning the game. When I got back to my house, I could finish the letters there, since I promised my parents I'd return after the interview. For now, the information I gathered was enough. That little piece of paper in my myth book was barely legible anymore.

The Adventurer would go to Snowpoint next, only because I hated the cold and wanted them to experience it, too. From there, Saffron City in Kanto—where they would paint the city the best way they could and find out how wrong they could be about people based on first impressions.

Like I misjudged Vienna… What could the Adventurer notice at second glance based on what they drew at the first?

Next, the Adventurer would go to Red's neighborhood in Pallet Town. There was a whole mess of articles on the Internet about him. I had to wonder if he knew how I felt, being the hero who stopped Team Rocket from taking over Kanto. He probably did. And how did he manage with all of that?

The last letter would be at my old house in Johto.

Those were simpler times. My dad wasn't a gym leader. My mom didn't worry about me all the time. I was just a kid who liked to play with my friends and watch the Pokémon play at the daycare center down the road. I dreamed of getting my own Pokémon one day, dreamed of being the Champion, but I never dreamed of saving the world.

The superhero movies had it all wrong. There was nothing glorious about this life, and it wasn't so easy to have a secret identity.

But maybe at my old house, I'd find something worthwhile. It was maybe more so for me than for the Adventurer to go there. I just couldn't help but wonder what the Adventurer might see standing in the same world I did, in the place where I was nothing more than a child with a dream.

There, would I be so angry with the world? There, would things feel so painful?

Before I had to leave for the interview at The Daily Buzz, a little earlier than planned so that I might be able to take a shower, I scribbled down my last words to the Adventurer. I still had so many to write in the other letters regardless. But those final words rang in my head so clearly, so perfectly now that they had to be written before I forgot.

_When you aim for the sun, be sure not to get too close. You may fall into the sea and find yourself abandoned._

It felt so fitting for those last words to be trapped between Icarus's pages, where they might wait to be scrawled again at the end of all of this.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This chapter was a difficult one for me. I wanted to find a way to incorporate the writing of the letters without having to copy and paste the actual letters from Across the Sun into this. Her thought process was more important to me, anyway, but at the same time, I don't expect you all to have those letters memorized, you know? So, I tried to take the more important parts from those letters. Hopefully it all worked out.

Also, I will be switching up the updating schedule next week. Two weeks from now, I'll be away and have zero access to the Internet, not even from my phone or anything. So, I'll be doing a double-update next week, one on Monday (the 16th) and one on Thursday (the 19th). There will not be another update after that until Monday, March 2nd.


	7. Bullet Train

**Chapter Six – Bullet Train**

_**-Two years prior to disappearance-**_

Vienna smiled at me as I approached her desk this time, her old sagging eyes bright. "Welcome back. I hope you had a good week in Rustboro."

Well, to define it as _good_ was… complicated. Nothing really went _wrong_, and I did mostly everything I set out to do here. Mr. Stone was on board with helping me, whether he truly realized what that meant or not, and I finished my research for my game. So, it was probably easier to say the week was productive rather than good.

"Of course," I replied anyway, and Vienna's smile grew a little wider.

"I'm so happy to hear that. Now," she added, her tone going from friendly to business, "the first item of business is to send you down to wardrobe. They will get you fixed up with a new outfit and makeup. If you need to use the restroom, I would recommend going now. Wardrobe, hair, and makeup can take some time."

Thankfully, the Pokémon Center had been practically empty when I went there earlier, and I took my first shower in the past week without having to wait an hour for it. But Vienna didn't need to know that I slept in the woods and hung out in the library, and she certainly didn't need to know that up until fifteen minutes ago, I probably smelled terribly.

There was only so much that using a paper towel in the library bathroom and deodorant could do.

"I'm good," I said. She didn't really need much more than that.

Besides, everyone who worked here would all be getting an earful tonight. Not much was private in an interview. Not an exclusive one with a five hundred million dollar paycheck attached to it.

Vienna lifted a corded phone to her ear and pressed two numbers on the keypad. I could hear it buzz a few times, and then with a click, someone on the other end answered. "Hello," Vienna greeted. "Champion May is ready to be taken into wardrobe. Can you please come escort her to the 2B room?"

There was a muffled response, and then the line clicked dead. By the time Vienna put the phone back down, though, someone appeared from the hall to the left of her desk.

"An honor, Champion May. An absolute honor." The person, a man who was possibly only five or so years older than myself, with the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen, bowed to me. I waved my hands frantically in an attempt to get him to stop. "My name is Wen. I'm the wardrobe supervisor. Jacqueline, who you'll meet in just a moment, will be your makeup and hair artist."

"Nice to meet you." I held out my hand, and Wen stared at it for a few seconds with wide eyes before grasping it so firmly that I feared my bones might break.

He led me quietly and nervously down the hall to the 2B room. I didn't know what 2B stood for, and I didn't ask. All I knew was that it wasn't called "Room 2B"—it was specifically "the 2B room."

And what a room it was. The Daily Buzz didn't have a ton of space here in Rustboro, and I was surprised that they didn't try to expand somewhere else. This room met the expectations of size: it only held two makeup stations, and that was all it could fit. But it appeared even smaller because of the expansive clothing selection lines along the walls. Dresses, pantsuits, tuxedos… they had it all, packed tight in this little room.

"Your first outfit," Wen finally said, his words as quick as his steps upon entering the room, "will be this little beauty here."

He stood even shorter than me, so he had to stretch on his toes to pull my supposed outfit off one of the racks. When he got it down, he held it carefully, one hand closed tight around the hanger and the other resting gently below the mass of fabric so I could see.

I didn't want to doubt Wen's expertise or anything; he was certainly dressed to the nines, and I wanted to respect his creative choices. But _this_?

It was some sort of black one-piece suit, likely skin-tight. All I needed now was a ski mask, and I could go rob a bank…

"The battle is less formal than the interview, of course. I wanted something practical yet fierce, something to remind audiences that you're not sixteen anymore," he explained, and I was glad that he wasn't looking at me anymore. My face might have betrayed me. "I realize that you usually battle in your normal clothes. I read all of your interviews. But… I wanted something special for you."

When he finally did look at me again, I forced a smile and nodded. "Looks lovely."

"You'll change into this first, and then Jacqueline will come to do your makeup and hair. Between the battle and the interview, there will be a quick change. We get an extra thirty seconds for the commercials, so that gives you a whopping total of three-and-a-half minutes to change. Oh, and _this_ is your outfit for the interview," he added, almost as an aside, and grabbed a dress from the same rack as the one-piece.

This one certainly seemed more practical than the other outfit, which amused me since Wen described the one-piece as the practical one. This dress was short but conservative, a little blue number that hinted more than it showed.

"Great. But is three-and-a-half minutes enough?" I wondered.

Wen smiled. "It will be." Then, he placed the dress back on the rack and then passed the one-piece to me. "I will give you a moment to change. Jacqueline will be in momentarily."

He hurried out of the room, leaving me alone to attempt to slither into the suit, if that was even how I got into it. I held it up carefully between my thumbs and index fingers, the fabric smooth and slippery to the touch. There was a zipper down the back, but getting into the suit was more challenging than it probably should have been. The only thing easy about it was hooking up my Pokémon to the belt.

It was once I had the suit on that I looked at my reflection in one of the two mirrors. The shiny fabric reflected enough light that I could see how it curved around my bones, which had started to protrude in the recent months. And staring at myself in the mirror, I noticed, too, how gaunt my face appeared.

To be honest, I couldn't help but wonder how things might have been different if I wasn't so thin—if I was overweight or horrifically ugly. It bothered me to think that things might have been so different.

"You need the back of it zipped the rest of the way up," a female voice commented, and I spun around with a hand moving to my back past where I could reach the zipper. I had been so stuck in my own head that I hadn't heard the woman come in. She walked over to me and spun a finger, gesturing for me to turn around.

Like Wen, she was young and beautiful, supposedly as a makeup artist should be. But her hands were rough as she yanked my zipper up, and then she smacked my cheek like you might do to a child.

"Bones," she commented, her voice monotonous. "I'll fix that. The ones on your face, anyway."

Jacqueline, it must have been, put two hands on my shoulders and pushed me down into the spinning chair. I didn't say a thing as she plucked and prodded, tearing hair out everywhere she could reach on my face and then nearly stabbing me in the eye with liquid liner.

This was certainly the most extensive preparation I had ever had for an interview and definitely the most painful. But a little bit of pain never really left a scar.

The time elapsed slowly, especially since we didn't speak to each other. But when it all ended and Jacqueline stepped away, I saw a stranger in the mirror. That had never been me—this beautiful, strong woman. In my head, no matter how old I got, I was just a little girl afraid of making mistakes.

"Perfect. Now, after the battle, you won't have time to come back in this room. You'll step off camera, change into your next outfit in the makeshift changing room, and then I'll apply some extra makeup to your arms and chest—fix anything ruined during the battle," Jacqueline explained quickly, and then she put her hands on her hips. "Try not to ruin too much. We only have three minutes."

"Three-and-a-half," I corrected, and she shot me a look.

"Good luck."

And then she held a hand out towards the door. I stepped through, and she led me next to a stage—one much tinier than I expected, like everything else here. Vienna was waiting there, too, with a middle-aged man whose hair appeared fake.

"Lovely, lovely," was his greeting to me. He held out a hand, shaking mine firmly when I met his grasp. "My name is Miles. It's a pleasure, Champion May."

"The pleasure is mine." Typical, instilled response.

"I will be interviewing you this evening. First, you will partake in the battle with our specialist, Jacqueline." Miles gestured to the makeup artist, and she looked away with a huff. Makeup artist _and_ battle specialist? Good for her. "This will happen live in about five minutes. It will be a six-versus-six battle. Any preparations you make, you'll need to do now."

I shook my head. "I'm all set."

Jacqueline's eyes shot to mine, and for the first time, she smiled. I wasn't one to be easily intimidated when it came to battling, though.

"Great," she said. "Then I look forward to it."

As did I. The world was about to see first-hand why I was a force to be reckoned with and why they never should have let me be their hero.

"I'll only need one Pokémon." I clicked Blaziken's ball off the suit's belt and held it towards Jacqueline. "And please don't go easy on me."

* * *

><p>I tended to get too serious when I battled. I certainly didn't give Jacqueline a chance to breathe, so why should I have any right to?<p>

But every time I looked around the room, beyond Blaziken, the opposing Pokémon, and Jacqueline, the stage director was in the back running his fingers across his lips—a reminder for me to smile. No matter what, though, I couldn't remember. I tried, but a moment later, it vanished, and my brow set low over my eyes.

Besides, I wanted everyone watching this to see how serious I could get. I wasn't just their little hero, a little princess with the ability to turn heads—and maybe Wen knew what he was doing when he chose this outfit because I definitely didn't look like a princess today. I wanted them all to see that I was someone to _fear_.

I didn't need to be the villain yet. That time would come. But if they could at least see the power that I held when teamed up with my Pokémon…

Except battling like this really didn't make much sense.

"Cut! Three minutes!"

I was getting tired of these damn commercials. How was anyone supposed to battle like this with commercial breaks every five minutes. Really, it was every time Blaziken downed one of Jacqueline's Pokémon that they added a commercial, except for between the first two and last two. But still, that was a lot of down time.

Three minutes had never felt so long. Yet at the end of the battle, the three-and-a-half minutes I had to change and redo my makeup felt so _short_.

"You need that dress _on_, let's go!" I could hear Jacqueline shouting from the other side of the curtain as I changed. I had a feeling she was pissed because I destroyed her, but what exactly did she expect from me? I had a reputation to uphold, and she was some nobody who would be left alone after this all the same. I saved her.

Still, she grumbled all the while as she rubbed concealer on my arms and my chest. "Great," she growled. "You only left me a minute to do this. You're lucky I'm good."

I had to hand it to Jacqueline, though, she wasn't one swayed by being in the presence of a celebrity, so I liked her for that. She was probably as much a jerk to everyone she met, which was fine with me. I'd rather that.

"You're on, go." Jacqueline pushed me without much more warning than that, and I tumbled towards the stage where they had set up a desk and some leather armchairs.

"Fifteen seconds!"

I ran up to one of the armchairs, the one closest to the desk, and sat down. Miles hurried over a second later and sat behind the desk, folding his hands on top of it and smiling in the direction of the camera. "Good luck, Champion," he muttered to me, and I nodded.

Should I have regretted not reading those questions? Well, I didn't exactly have time to worry about it now.

"On in five, four…" The cameraman counted down the rest of the way with his fingers, and then the interview began.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to The Daily Buzz!" Miles announced, his words perfectly enunciated. "As you just saw before our commercial break, Champion May is with us today, and we just had a very special, very exclusive event with her. We had a live battle for you, our viewers, and… the results?"

Miles looked over at me, and I laughed. "Oh, well… my victory."

He laughed, too, clapping his hands together as though the funniest thing he had ever heard. "Folks, this was no _victory_. It was decimation. You know, it's… it's funny because before we went on, we went through the regulations for the match. It was to be a six-versus-six battle, and Champion May says, 'I'll only need one.' And she did! She's _that _good. How did you become that good, Champion May?"

This was a question I was well-familiar with. Certainly not an exclusive one.

"Training. I spent hours upon hours just training with my Pokémon, which also helped build a bond between us and… trust. I can trust that my Blaziken will always take care of me, just like I'll always take care of it," I explained, and a pang of guilt made my stomach churn uncomfortably. How long was _always_?

"And how would you describe your victory over the previous Champion?" Miles asked next, his face going serious. "Your rise to victory, let's say."

The rise to victory? Funny, that was a new one. Most interviewers just asked how it felt to become the Champion.

"Like a bullet train," I answered, and clearly this was not the answer he expected because his eyebrows shot up. "It's so peaceful being along for the ride—you can barely feel a thing. But it's when you look out the window, take everything in, that you notice everything moving so quickly that it's impossible to see what lies ahead or what came before. And you can't stop it either."

"Amazing. Amazing." Miles closed his eyes for a second and shook his head, and when he opened them again, he smiled. "So, you trained, you became a champion, you hopped on board the bullet train of life…" He laughed at his own joke, and I smiled. "What's in store for you now? Where do you go from here? You've been 'Champion May' for a few years now, even though you chose to let the previous Champion remain active. You've been a hero for longer than that. What do you do now?"

To be honest, I didn't exactly have an answer for that. It was a strange question, one that wasn't asked a lot. To the people of Hoenn, I was just their savior and their Champion. Until someone defeated me, or until I relinquished my title, I would always be just that. It didn't really matter what else I did.

"I battle. I travel around Hoenn. But, really, I just try to live my life as normally as possible." Not a good answer. A safe one maybe.

"Wonderful. We're going to take a quick commercial break, and when we return, we'll hear more from Champion May about her _normal_ life," Miles said straight into the camera, and the cameraman gave a thumbs up.

Miles sighed then and took a sip of something from his coffee mug. When he set it back down, he looked at me and frowned. "Why do you need so much money in cash anyway?"

My eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"That's one of the strangest requests ever made, and, you know, we've had some very strange requests." Miles checked over his hands, flipping them back and forth to get his nails in the light. I almost didn't know if he was _really_ talking to me.

"That's not any of your business, is it, sir?" I countered as politely as I could, and then I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs, my arm swung over the back of the sofa. "How long until the commercial is over?"

But Miles turned his attention completely on me and grinned. For such a handsome man, albeit with fake hair, he looked devilishly sly. "It kind of is. We're the ones paying you here, not the other way around. If you're using it for, say, illegal activities, then we're only fueling the fire."

My heart panged, and I sat up straight again with my feet flat on the floor. "I donate it. Okay? I don't need all of that money, so I donate the cash payments," I hissed at him, and he shrugged, his grin putting me even more on edge. "Do you do this to all of the people you interview? Because this is completely—"

"Back on in thirty seconds!"

"I was only curious." Miles smiled, getting back into character, but I could only stare at him with a gape.

Wow.

"Five, four…"

"And we're back with Champion May!" Miles turned from the camera to me, and I had to say, I was disgusted by his grin now. "Now, you say that you try to live a normal life. I imagine you have friends who you like to see, maybe who were influential to you in some way as you challenged your way through the League. Is there maybe one or two people who come to mind?"

Well, regardless of what I thought of Miles, I still had to complete this interview if I wanted my paycheck.

And his question brought one specific face to mind, and it wasn't Steven's. Steven may have been my mentor, but I had one friend who stood out. I hadn't seen him in awhile. But sometimes I worried about him in random moments when I couldn't remember how to breathe and wondered if that was how he felt.

"Yeah. My best friend, Wally."

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Four years prior to disappearance-<strong>_

I could count the number of people I cared about—truly cared about—on one hand: my mom, my dad, Steven, and Wally. There were a couple of runner-ups, like Mr. Stone and maybe even Professor Birch, but if it came to the feeling of love, there were only four.

It amused me a little to think that when I first met Wally, I thought him a hindrance, a nuisance. He was some little kid who I had to babysit and watch out for. A sickly boy, the strains of life didn't treat him well. He was always sniffling and coughing, and the sound was like nails on a chalkboard to me for awhile.

But people changed. Things changed. He never gave me any problems, so my agitation with him was unfounded. In fact, he never gave anything less than his best to me. Over the course of my journey, I became quite fond of him, to the point where I wondered if giving him my best might be overdoing it.

The fact of the matter was that I was stronger than him. My body, my lungs. But my Pokémon were stronger, too. And it seemed so critically unfair—that I have all the good things.

As we sat together now in Lilycove City, the cool sea breeze nipping at our faces, the question that I always wanted to ask him burst from me. I wondered if I shouldn't bring it up, if we were happier without it, but I needed an answer for my own selfish reasons.

"Do you resent me?"

Wally glanced over at me, but I continued to stare out at the sea. His hand somehow found its way into mine, which was probably answer enough.

"For what?"

"You were never able to beat me. I always thought that I ought to have let you win once—you wanted it so badly, and I would just… crush you." I finally looked over at him when he squeezed my hand harder. "To be honest, you probably wanted it more than I did. It would've been proof that you would be okay."

He smiled, and I couldn't help but admire him for doing so. His smiles were always so genuine.

"You're such a good person, May," he told me before looking back out at the sea. "_You_ were my proof, anyway. You didn't need to let me win for that—it would've been a false victory. But you treated me the same way you treated everyone else. You didn't pity me because I was sick or younger or anything like that. And that's enough for me. So, no, I don't resent you."

"That's good." I watched a particularly strong wave hit up against the rocks below us, and I laughed. "What would the world be like without a good-hearted soul like you, Wally? It'd be a much darker place."

Wally laughed, too, and knocked me with his shoulder. "Not as dark a place as it would be without you. I'm not sure what any of us in Hoenn would do without you around."

My heart began to pound wildly, and I shifted in fear that Wally could feel it. "I'm sure they'd manage," I answered confidently, so that he might not hear it either. "Everyone would survive all right without me."

It was a joke to him, and I laughed awkwardly beside him.

All the same, it was good to have a best friend like Wally. So innocent, so naïve. When I ripped out his heart, though, it might be ten times more painful than for someone more like Steven—someone who might, maybe, have seen it all coming.

But for the unsuspecting Wally, I figured he was better off without a goodbye. When the time came, however many years in the future that would be, it would have to be like ripping off a bandage. That way he could get over me and just resent me like he ought to have done in the first place.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> If you've been following my writing for awhile, you know I'll do anything to avoid writing a battle scene. My apologies to those looking forward to it.

I always wondered about Wally and May's relationship and how Wally seemed in much more want of victory. Would he ever resent her for winning? Hmm…

Sorry for the slight delay. I had to go in early to work and stay a bit late. But here it is now!

Also, this is a reminder that there will be an extra update on Thursday this week. So, until then! Enjoy!


	8. Me

**Chapter Seven – Me**

_**-Three years prior to disappearance-**_

Steven would never admit it, but he _was_ curious about my past—maybe not _I need to know everything about you_ curious. But he was curious enough that he'd occasionally drop a question or two at seemingly random times. He liked to act as if he didn't intend to ask about me and used sly tactics to do so, ones that were usually as avoidant of the subject as possible.

"Your dad's been the gym leader for a while now," he commented thoughtfully one day when I stopped by Ever Grande, just for the heck of it as I sometimes did. We sat now outside on one of the benches overlooking a sharp drop-off; it was beautiful, definitely, but one misstep, and that was the end of that.

I hummed in response, and he glanced over at me with a smile.

"What did he do when you lived in Johto?" he asked, and I admitted myself surprised that he remembered where I used to live. I didn't like to talk about it much, if only because I knew I preferred my life there to my life here.

Things were simpler in Johto. I was just a girl, nothing more than that. I had friends who liked me because they got to know me, not because of my name. Of course, I lost track of them completely when I moved to Hoenn, and they were no more than mere figments by now. Unable to remember them, how could I know if I ever really met them at all?

It wasn't as if I moved to Hoenn that long ago, so I didn't have much of an excuse for forgetting them. I wasn't a child at the time. But now I could only see the silhouettes of my classmates in school and my outside friends.

"Oh, well, he was just a trainer at a gym. When he got the call that he had been named the new leader in Petalburg…" I trailed off and smiled, shaking my head at the thought. "I was really happy for him, too. I just never expected any of _this_ to happen." I gestured to the land around us, accessible only to the chosen few: the Elite Four, the Champion (in this case, the two of us), and any trainers strong enough to trek through Victory Road.

"You wouldn't have tried to take on the Indigo League?" Steven wondered.

And there it was. The subtle delve into my past—his smooth attempt to appear interested but not _too_ interested. I had to admit that I found it cute. There was so much of him and his naïveté that would bother other people, but they didn't understand him the way I did. This outreach meant so much more than it seemed.

"Maybe I would've." I smiled and stared back out at the ocean, which seemed so much farther away because of the drop-off. "I was always interested in starting a journey, traveling around with Pokémon of my own. I used to play with my dad's Pokémon all the time… take the weaker ones out to battle wild Pokémon. That Zigzagoon that my dad let Wally borrow to catch his Ralts, for instance."

"Why didn't you ever catch a Pokémon of your own?" I could see out of the corner of my eye that Steven held his hands up suddenly. "I'm not trying to insinuate anything. I'm glad that you came to Hoenn. Otherwise, I don't think we ever would've met."

I had the faintest feeling that this was Steven's attempt to say that he cared about me and that he wouldn't want anything different to have happened, and I appreciated that. But if only he knew what coming here had done. Maybe if my family stayed in Johto, after all, things would have been better. I just couldn't change that now.

But I only turned to him and smiled, patting his arm gently before standing up. "My parents wanted me to finish middle school before I could go off on my own," I explained, and I put my hands on my hips as I faced the sea again. "By the time I did, my dad had already started applying for gym leader positions around the country. It was only a matter of time before we moved, and I didn't want my journey to be interrupted. My mom promised I could go by the time I was sixteen, too… though I think she made that promise just for the hell of it, to tide me over."

"Oh." I didn't look over my shoulder at Steven, but I could just _tell_ that he was smirking now. "Only middle school, huh? That explains a lot."

I spun around so quickly that I nearly lost my footing, but I caught myself before I went tumbling. Steven's hand, though, found its way around my wrist. It was so warm and soft, but he grabbed me so firmly that it hurt nonetheless.

"What are you trying to say?" I snapped, shaking his hand off me and playing it like nothing happened at all. This was the safer of the two options, the second being acknowledging his touch. "I'll have you know that I _could've_ gone to high school if I wanted—university, too. I just prefer hands-on learning and experiences. Besides, I would've only just finished high school by now—I've already been the Champion for two years."

Steven laughed, the sound so loud that it echoed. "I was only kidding," he muttered in between chuckles, and I narrowed my eyes at him to feign annoyance. "You're probably one of the most brilliant people I've ever met, anyway."

This caught me off guard, and my façade faded fast. I hurried behind the bench where he couldn't see me so I could hide the blush creeping onto my cheeks. I bit my lip and put my hands over his eyes, leaning down so I could rest my head on his shoulder. His hands moved up to mine, but he didn't try to pry mine away.

"Keep your eyes shut. No cheating," I told him, my voice quiet in his ear. "Pretend for a second that I stayed in Johto. Then count to ten and open your eyes."

I pulled my hands away from his again and waited to hear him start counting. When he started, "Ten, nine…" I ran into Victory Road.

I wondered what he might see in his head while he counted to zero. Would the world he saw in his mind be flooded, or would it just like the one he'd see when he opened his eyes? Everything as it should be, just without me in the picture.

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Two years prior to disappearance-<strong>_

I liked Vienna, Ines, and Wen the most out of the people I met at The Daily Buzz. They were the only ones to come up to me after the interview ended. Miles practically sprinted out of the recording stage, and Jacqueline wasn't far behind him. Several of the cameramen and stage managers followed suit, though their lingering gazes hinted that they wanted to talk to me. But Vienna, Ines, and Wen were the ones who didn't follow status quo.

"That was amazing. You are so cool," Wen told me, and Ines nodded enthusiastically beside him.

Vienna smiled, and somehow, she looked older. "We can't thank you enough for agreeing to do this. The phones have been off the hook—practically since the moment you were on screen. I probably shouldn't say this," she added tentatively, "but The Daily Buzz needs the ratings. That was why we dropped so much on you. We knew you'd draw in audiences."

To be completely honest, the interview wasn't anything special. For being exclusive, they didn't ask very many hard-hitting questions. There were a couple of questions that I knew couldn't have been on the list, like the ones about Wally.

"It's so fascinating. We rarely see you with anyone in photographs, and from our understanding, you usually attend interviews with your parents or alone. Are you trying to keep your friends out of the spotlight? Or is Wally a romantic partner, and you are simply holding out on us?" Miles had asked me, which made my eyes go wide. I wasn't able to catch myself soon enough, and I coughed to cover my surprise.

"No, no," I spluttered in response, but the denial had seemed much too quick. There were going to be plenty of sources now saying that Wally and I were an item. "I don't have many close friends. I'll admit that. Because I moved to Hoenn and then started my journey right away, I didn't have much time to go out and meet people my age. And being strong enough to become the Champion meant I often battled people with a lot of experience under their belts. So mostly everyone I encountered was older than me."

It also didn't take a genius to figure out the other reason why I didn't have many friends, though I thought I did a good job of hiding it. Being near people all the time drained me. The select few who I called my friends or family were tolerable, but in situations like that interview—with Miles staring at me with a scrutinizing look the whole while—bothered me more than I was willing to admit.

"And Wally?" Miles pried.

Wally was like the air, and I meant that in the best way possible. A world without Wally was a world uninhabitable. Everyone who met him loved him. He just had that kind of aura about him. It almost made me jealous that he didn't even have to _try_ to have that effect.

"He's a couple of years younger than me," I explained. "My dad asked me to help him catch a Pokémon early on during my journey, and Wally became the most hard-working person I've ever met. He inspired me." I smiled at the thought of my friend and my gaze fell away from Miles and off to a spot on the floor. "He's not perfect or particularly strong, but he has faith that he is capable of anything. And that's more than most people have these days."

"It seems as though you truly care for him. Do you think those feelings could develop into love someday? I know that there are plenty of your fans out there who would love to see our Champion married some day," Miles told me with a light laugh.

But I didn't find it the least bit funny. "No, they won't. And why are you so intent on paring me off?" I wondered, and my tone remained pleasant despite my annoyance. It was all part of the façade. "Have I not proven that I am fully capable of taking care of myself, and other people, alone? Have I ever said anything that indicated that I am interested or pursuing any romantic relationships right now? I'm happy alone."

Miles's eyes widened a little, and he glanced over at the stage director as if he didn't know how to respond. "Are you saying you have no interest in marriage?" he finally asked, and I laughed.

"I didn't say that. But I have so much more going for me than just a pretty face—don'tcha think?" I turned to the camera and blew a kiss straight into it. Miles sat stunned for a moment, I noticed as I turned back to him with a smile.

"Well," he managed to croak, "there you have it, folks. Straight from Champion May herself. We'll be right back after this short break."

The director had run over to Miles following that disaster and whispered something in his ear. The questions returned to the prescribed list after that, making the "exclusive" interview not so exclusive by the end. But they certainly got an earful from me about my relationships, even if they regretted going live now.

At least they would get the ratings and the interest they so desired.

And I got what I wanted, too.

Vienna hurried out of the room, leaving me with only Wen and Ines who both went on about how amazing I had been and how the battle inspired them. But a minute later, Vienna returned carrying a small wooden box and a little piece of paper.

"For you." She handed me the check first. "And for you."

I knew what was in the box without opening it, and I chose not to do so in front of the three employees. I trusted that it was all there, anyway.

Wen brought me back to the prep room and there I lifted the lid before changing out of my dress. _This is it_, I thought and ran my fingers over the stacks of bills. The game was on, and my heart pounded nervously against my chest. This small box meant so much.

When I emerged from the changing room, Ines was the only one waiting outside. I tucked the little box and the check safely inside my bag and then gestured for her to follow me. We walked quietly for a little while through the halls, but we stopped outside the elevator.

"I think you're amazing," she told me. I smiled at her, but I wondered how long she'd continue to think that. Then she suddenly bowed, her head tipped downward so I couldn't see her face. "Please. I want to film your documentary."

"The job is already yours. I'll be waiting," I assured her.

The elevator dinged to announce its arrival, and Ines stood up straight again to look at its opening doors. When I stepped inside, she waved, the most innocuous smile on her face. She had no idea what she was getting into—she had no idea who I was. Not many people did. But maybe she'd be the first to find out.

* * *

><p>It was past midnight by the time I got home that night. No one stirred in the house as the front door creaked open or as the floorboards squeaked as my weight pressed upon them. My parents remained fast asleep upstairs, and I headed straight to my room rather than letting them know I made it back safely.<p>

I fell back onto my bed, my legs dangling off the edge. My eyes were heavy, but my heart pounded against my chest so fiercely that I knew I'd never get any sleep.

When I sat up, a drop of water hit the back of my hand. I looked up at the ceiling before realizing that it wasn't the roof leaking at all. When had I started to cry? Hastily, I wiped my eyes dry and sighed. There was no reason for crying. I knew that. So why had I started to cry at all?

I pushed myself to my feet and moved instead to my desk. If I couldn't sleep, I might as well write.

The paper inside my book was crinkled and smudged, but it did its job all the same. I attempted to smooth it out, setting it a little to the side so it was in eyesight but not in the way. Then, sliding a blank piece of paper out of my desk, I continued the journey with the Adventurer I imagined in my head.

My Adventurer had no gender. They had no age. They didn't even have an appearance. They just _were_.

But everything else about them had been so concretely explained in my head that I feared disappointing myself. The Adventurer's heart had been designed out of pure gold—they could do no wrong. If kindness could be personified, it would be in the Adventurer. And if hope could ever exist in this world, then all of the hope anyone ever had poured into the Adventurer's soul. The Adventurer, after all, was all I had left.

The possibility arose that my dear Adventurer knew nothing about me. Not many people did. No matter how much Steven subtly pried, even he didn't know that much.

I glanced around my room, writing down whatever first came to mind.

_Right now I'm sitting at a desk in my bedroom in Hoenn,_ I wrote. _I have a couple of plush dolls on it, a picture of my mom, and a couple of books. One of them has only been half-read. I've read the other a bunch of times. I have a big bookshelf on the wall to my right, though, and I think I've read most of those books. My favorite book is "Rat Tail" by Marv Trende._

What else? What about me?

My hand might have moved itself. I rambled for a little while, talking about my favorite things, my likes and dislikes. I talked about Wally, who kept popping up in my mind ever since Miles brought him up. But somehow the person who I most wanted to forget was the most important one to me and the person who stole the show.

I loved Steven. I loved the Steven who gave me whiplash and made me second-guess everything. I loved the Steven who didn't understand how crazy he made me. I loved the Steven who would never admit he wanted to know me, and I loved the Steven who tried nonetheless. I loved him, and I was so terrified of leaving when I knew that.

_That's the worst part about all of this. I've been planning and planning… I know what I'm doing. I'm completely conscious. But the idea is so much more appealing than the execution. I know that I have to leave all of these people behind, and it really scares me. Of course, I'll be gone when you read this, but please take note that May, Champion of Hoenn, savior of Hoenn, was scared to death of leaving._

Just like that, I began to cry once again. Would the Adventurer pity me?

I wondered if this was how Red, the Champion from Kanto, felt before he left? I found a few articles about him while I was at the library. He had disappeared, too, returning only after the current Champion _brought_ him back. Did he have the same thoughts that I did? That this world was beyond being saved?

Pallet Town… There would be answers there…

I could hardly wait to make it there. Maybe everything would make so much more sense if I talked to Red.

The rest of the letters felt so routine. I had my tasks, I had my clues. The Adventurer would understand that first impressions weren't the only ones—like with me. The person I first introduced to the Adventurer didn't truly encompass everything about me. Red, who they might find later if they were lucky, couldn't be just a silent hero.

Explanations… just words that didn't mean that much at the end of all this…

My Adventurer might see something at the end of the line that I never saw. On the steps of my home in Johto, I saw my innocence pass me by. What would the Adventurer see there? Just an expansive town in front of them? The world continuing to spin on its axis like nothing ever changed? Or would they view the world as different at the end of all this?

My final letter was the shortest, probably the easiest to write. It was my apology for everything that happened. And at the end, I scrawled my final words, the ones I had somehow memorized.

"I'll be waiting," I whispered, sticking this last letter into its envelope.

With a deep breath, I rose from my chair and tucked the batch of letters in the deepest parts of my desk. Then, I picked up the piece of scrap paper upon which I planned this whole game and stared at the mass of barely-legible scrawling.

I walked over to the trashcan, holding the all of my plans and secrets and true feelings in my hands. My heart pounded so forcefully that I feared it might rip itself out of my chest, but maybe this wouldn't hurt so badly if it did. I couldn't, though, so my hands still shook as I moved my fingers closer together.

"Goodbye," I whispered to all of my thoughts, and I tore the paper in half—and then in fourths, then more and more. All that was left behind were tiny little puzzle pieces floating like snow into my waste bin.

It was a puzzle that no one would ever try to put together again, but I still held all the answers in the confines of my mind. Sometimes that was a terrible burden to bear.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Sorry for the slight delay on the this chapter. I just finished the chapter that I'll be posting when I return, ack. I've fallen a bit behind, but hopefully things will remain on track following this.

Enjoy! See you on March 2nd.


	9. Lights and Cameras

**Author's Note: **I apologize for the delay. I only got back from my trip this morning when I was supposed to get back days ago. It has been an extremely stressful couple of days, haha. But I'm here, so enjoy this update (better late than never)!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Lights and Cameras<strong>

_**-One-and-a-half years prior to disappearance-**_

My hands shook frequently lately, but I hid it well. Whenever someone spoke directly to me, I crossed my arms and smiled. During interviews, I kept my hands in my lap. At my annual doctor's appointment a few weeks ago, I sat on my hands the whole time the doctor was in the room with me.

Sometimes I sat in my room practicing holding my hand out without it shaking, but I couldn't stop it no matter how hard I focused.

It was as I practiced one day that my personal phone rang. I grabbed the phone and held it shakily up to my ear, pressing it as firmly as I could against my face to stop the movement. "Hello?" I greeted.

"Ah, is this Champion May?" a female voice on the other end asked, and I nearly clicked the line dead. Luckily, I didn't. "This is Ines—the, uh, intern from The Daily Buzz."

I nearly forgot. Well, no, I couldn't forget. I thought about everything coming up every day I lived: how long I had to wait until I could leave, what I still had to do to prepare, what I might do if Steven returned any day now… There were so many thoughts in my head all the time, and I was beginning to break down.

"Oh, Ines. How are you?" I sat back down on my bed and curled my knees up into my chest.

"I'm fine. But did I call you at a bad time? You sound tired," Ines replied.

I sat up a little straighter but still hugged my knees. "No, this is the perfect time. I'm glad to hear from you. I hope that you had a good time at the rest of your internship."

"Yes, I did! I really did!"

I couldn't help but smile at her energy. Did it make me a horrible person that I was taking advantage of a girl with such an innocent light in her? All of her excitement at being done her internship—her eagerness to help me, a stranger, with a project about which she knew essentially nothing… _She_ was a good person, and that left me… not.

"But, uh, May," she began tentatively, "I was calling to let you know that I finished with my internship. As of last week, I graduated from film school, too. So, I was hoping that your offer to help you on your documentary was still applicable. I have a few friends from school that would like to help if that's okay with you, too. Oh, but I never mentioned your name or anything."

The more people that got involved in this, the harder things would be to keep everything contained. This film would be revealing, but only in time if at all. If anyone ever got a hold of them, asked them what they knew about me… I didn't want to drag them into my mess. But I also didn't want anyone to _know_ what I planned to do.

A few people would be okay, probably three at most. The fewer the better.

"It's fine if it's only a few. I'm just really glad that you're willing to help me out. I can discuss payment and all of that with you in person. And… some other things," I added, and then I let my legs fall out straight. Could she hear my voice shaking, could she hear the way the phone trembled against my skin?

"What other things?" Ines wondered, but her voice was curious, not concerned.

I glanced around my room for a moment, if only to distance myself from the answer. I needed Ines for this, but I didn't want her to be frightened by what she might see or discover about me. This was all so complicated. The longer I stayed here, the worse I felt about _everything_. I was more tired, more bothered, and nothing could put me at ease.

"It's easier to explain it face-to-face. But… I need you to do me a favor before we meet," I started hesitantly. Ines hummed in response on the other end. "There are a couple of shots I'd like you to get for me. Call it an… audition. Show me what you can do."

Ines didn't respond right away, and for a moment, I thought she hung up. But then I could hear her clear her throat. "No problem!" she announced, and her enthusiasm was contagious enough to make me smile. "What would you like?"

* * *

><p>A couple of weeks passed before Ines called me back to let me know that she got everything I wanted. By the time we met up, it had been a whole month since she contacted me, and somehow I felt I was beginning to run out of time. At least, I figured, we had the hardest and most painful part done: the shots of abandoned Pokémon <em>and<em> people. The rest would be a breeze to film.

We decided to meet up in Rustboro again because we could get into a nice space at the library to film. It seemed the least conspicuous place for me, anyway. Ines first suggested a halfway point for the both of us, but something about the mere idea of going to Petalburg bothered me. It'd be as though my dad was hovering over my shoulder.

"May! Champion May!"

I winced at the sound of my name as I waited outside the library for Ines and her crew to arrive. But when I spun slowly around and saw her vaguely familiar face—framed by a new haircut—my shoulders lost some of the tension. She carried a bag almost bigger than she was, but the two guys behind her carried some even larger.

Ines didn't look the least bit bothered by the weight of her baggage. Though, she must've seen me jump since she approached with a frown instead of a smile.

"Is everything okay?" she asked as she got closer. The two others behind her exchanged a look.

I nodded. "Do you have the shots with you?"

Ines nodded, swinging the large bag over her shoulder a little bit towards me and patting the side. "It's all in here. Oh, um…" She paused and smiled uncomfortably at me. "My team prefers to work with traditional reel to reel. Hopefully that's okay with you. If we need to, we can always convert to digital later."

"Reel to reel is fine. It'll… give me the aesthetic that I'm looking for," I agreed. "There are a couple of things I need to discuss with you before we actually start this, though. I can't foresee this taking more than a day to film, but I am going to compensate you for much more than that. You see… I won't be able to give you any part of the proceeds from this film, should it ever be shown at all. I can't even credit you for it."

One of the guys behind Ines, a tall burly boy with arms the size of my legs, narrowed his eyes at me. "What? You expect us to do all of this work for you and not get any credit for it? Yeah, right."

Ines turned back towards the boy, and I was surprised to hear her tone so dark as she snapped, "Marv, listen to her first."

"I'm saying this for your own protection," I explained, and somehow I sounded like my mother, which was weird enough considering I was probably younger than the people standing here with me. "I can't explain all of it—you'll see when we start filming. This will be controversial, and I don't want you getting caught up in it."

Marv didn't look convinced. His brow furrowed even further, which made him look all the more intimidating. "Controversy is all part of the film game, Champ. That's how stars break out."

"I know, but…" I trailed off, the sudden thought that this might be a huge mistake haunting me. If this ruined everything… "Look, I'm willing to do anything you want. I'll pay you more, I'll give you all letters of recommendation, anything you want. You name the price. Please. It'll be easier for you that way."

The other boy shifted the bag over his shoulder and sighed loud enough that the three of us all stared at him. "I'm just happy to have a job. I don't really care if I get credit for it or not. It's money, and _that's_ what I need right now since I'm a month behind on rent. So, regardless of what you two think, I'm all for helping out on this."

"Frank…" Ines said quietly, and then she nodded. "I agree. And how cool is it to help a champion?"

Marv groaned, but even he seemed to be persuaded. "Fine, fine. I need the money, too. But how much are we talking here, since you said we could name the price?"

Without my parents' knowledge, I cashed the check from The Daily Buzz rather than depositing it, but there was enough money in my bank that they would never question it if they took a peek. I could offer these three more money than they had probably ever seen, even if it wasn't as much as I could give.

"Forty-five million each."

Marv nearly choked from the sheer force of his inhalation. Ines's eyes went wide, and Frank's eyebrows furrowed low enough to give the impression he was confused.

"Are you for real?" Marv demanded, and when I nodded, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Entirely." I gave the three of them a small smile, which was truly the most I could offer them at this point. "I will be grateful to you for this. Indebted. So, if you choose to help me, you'll be owed a favor by Hoenn's Champion. I'll do what I can to repay you someday, but there's only so much I can do."

Ines held out her hand to me. "Well, from the shots I took already, I can tell this will be an interesting project. Thanks for working with me."

When I grasped her hand, Frank and Marv clasped their hands on top of ours. Ines laughed, and I admired the way the three of them exchanged glances in the brief seconds that followed. How beautiful friendship seemed when it was something so out of reach.

"And one more thing…" I began when they lowered their hands.

"What now?" Marv cried, but he managed a smile for me when I looked up at him. Ines elbowed him in the gut, which shifted the bag on his shoulder and nearly made him buckle under the weight.

"I need to ask you to trust me," I told them, "as I am now."

* * *

><p>Ines took one look at the script I developed and went pale. "May, what are you trying to do?" she asked me, and I looked away from her. There was no way I could look her in the eye like this. "This doesn't sound at all like you. Marv was a screenwriter major in university. Should he take a look at this and help you rewrite?"<p>

I shook my head, still avoiding her gaze. "No, that's how I want it."

When I finally gathered the courage to look at her, she was staring at the document with clenched teeth and narrowed eyes. I knew what she was trying to do—she wanted to read between the lines, to find the truth between the words there, but that was all there was. Those words on the pages… it wasn't that they were _true_, but there was nothing more to them than what was there.

"Well…" Ines picked up the stack of pages and hit them against the table to align them. "I'll have to fix the audio to make my voice sound older, which is fine since I'll dub that over later. The only one on camera will be you. We'll be able to do that today. Frank, Marv, and I will take the next few weeks or so to mix everything together, and then we'll show you the final product."

"Great."

Ines set the papers back down on the table and folded her hands on top of them. "This doesn't sound right. Maybe it's just because I want to believe it, but I'm more convinced by the you at the Daily Buzz interview than _this_ you. You're making yourself look… frankly, horrible. It looks bad for you. You want that?"

"I want to prove a point," I countered, and Ines nodded. "Believe what you want to believe. This is the film you're helping me make."

She sighed, and then she glanced over at Marv and Frank in the corner of the room, both of whom remained silent throughout this encounter as they set up the camera. That wasn't to say they weren't listening. They didn't know me like Ines did, and she _barely_ knew anything about me at all. So, this was really their first impression of me.

Well, like I wanted to prove to the Adventurer, sometimes first impressions were wrong.

Then again, sometimes they were right.

"We're all set," Marv said, giving Ines a thumbs-up.

Ines held onto the script and stood up so she'd be out of the shot. She ushered me into a spot away from the table near the wall where I'd stand out. The lighting wasn't ideal, but apparently Frank worked wonders with editing software. The only thing I had to worry about was my acting, and I mastered that long ago.

"All right, I'm going to read the lines. What I say and how I say it won't be in the final film. I'll be recording the lines and changing the pitch later, so don't worry if it's not exactly how you pictured it sounding. For now, you worry about delivering your lines. You want this to look like a natural interview," Ines directed as she gestured for me to shift this way and that for the perfect angle. "We'll give a countdown."

My heart beat in time with Frank's count, and I took a deep breath with some time left. By the time I opened my eyes, Frank was pointing at me to start. I could've sworn my heart stopped altogether.

Were my hands still shaking?

"Oh, yeah, I absolutely love battling," I said, my voice as clear and as bright as it ever was. "There's… thrill to it, you know?"

"When did you begin battling?" Ines asked.

I watched her instead of looking into the camera. She glanced over at Marv at the camera, and he nodded.

"I began battling when I was very young, back when I lived in Johto," I answered, and this came off so naturally that the thought of pre-planned words and scripts didn't even come to the forefront of my mind. "My father was always very into battling and raising Pokémon. I grew up with that, and I trained with his team for a long time, too. But it wasn't until I moved to Hoenn that I got my first Pokémon."

"Did you know that one day you would end up saving the world from being drowned and that you would become the Champion?"

Ines shook her head at me, maybe trying to get me to change my mind, but I could only smile at her attempt. A giggle escaped before I could stop it. How ridiculous. This whole thing… this was all so ridiculous…

"Yes." My voice dropped to its natural octave, abandoning my higher-toned, little girl-esque façade for the first time on camera. "Yes, I did."

A second of silence passed, and then Ines's arms dropped to her sides. "Cut. Stop. May, are you _sure_ you know what you're doing? What you're about to do? You said this was controversial, but I didn't realize you were going to go against everything people believe. You're essentially calling yourself out as a hypocrite."

Marv groaned, leaning around the camera and shooting me a dark look. "I'm going to be straight with you. You're making yourself look like a bitch. Are you prepared to go from Hoenn's little princess to Hoenn's most hated savior?" he questioned, and I shifted to sit on my fingers. My hands shook so terribly that keeping them in my lap hid nothing.

"Is my point being made?"

"I suppose it is," Marv answered with a shrug.

"Then I'm fine with that. Remember, I asked you to trust me. You're getting paid, I'm getting my documentary. Just leave it at that," I snapped, and Ines's gaze turned darker than before. "Can we get back to this?"

Frank counted us off again, and Ines continued, "How did you create the region's most powerful team? Do you have battle strategies?"

I smiled and nodded. "Of course. You can't just go blindly into battle—that's a disaster waiting to happen. One of the things that I did to create my team was bring in all sorts of different types. I had a water-type, but I had a fire-type and grass-type to complement it. I had a psychic-type, but I had a dark-type to complement it. It's a lot of give and take."

"And by give and take, you mean…"

"Not every type is going to work. That's obvious." I laughed again. "But I tried multiple combinations and have up on the ones that were not as absolutely strong as I needed them to be. I saw that Team Aqua was a problem, so I needed to have a strong team—any Pokémon that was not cut out for it got the boot. That's all there is to it."

Ines glared at me—and a shiver crawled up my spine when she did—as she continued to read from the script, "So, you put whatever Pokémon you didn't need in your PC?"

I rolled my eyes, but to be honest, it was mostly out of spite for myself. "If they lost, I didn't need them, and I had no plans to use them. I released them."

"But often those Pokémon will become dependent on their trainers—if you domesticate a Pokémon, when it recognizes you as its master, many times they won't know how to return to the wild that they were forced to leave behind. And if you release a Pokémon right after a battle—"

I shook my head, cutting Ines off before she could even finish the line. "I needed a team that could win," I said. "You would all be dead if I hadn't made one."

Ines cut the film again, flipping through the script to the next part where the interviewer spoke.

"She has a point," Frank offered carefully, tipping the boom mic back so it leaned on his shoulder. "We _would_ be dead if it wasn't for her. Not to say that any of this is really… right to say on screen or anything."

"I don't even know if this will ever be seen by anyone," I admitted. Marv rolled his eyes, which I kind of expected from him at this point. "But if it is—"

"If it is," Ines interrupted, "what's stopping any one of us from saying none of this is true? I can't believe that you release all of your Pokémon like that. Why shouldn't we admit that we were the ones who worked on this film? Why shouldn't we admit that you're not the bad person you're making yourself out to be?"

I smiled, partially because I didn't have much of a response to that. In all honesty, there was _nothing_ stopping them from telling the truth. But how reliable a source were they? There were dozens upon dozens of interviews of me as the lovely Champion May. If a single one came out that challenged my image, wouldn't that do more damage? Who were three strangers to say if this was accurate or not?

"Nothing. If that's what you think, then there's nothing." I clapped my trembling hands together. "Let's continue, shall we?"

I probably would never know if the Adventurer ever found this film once it was completed. I wouldn't know if anyone else would ever see it. But it bothered me the most that I might never know if Ines remained convinced that the person I was wasn't the villain I wanted to be.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So with all of this mess coming home from my trip, I really don't know if I'll be able to update on Monday. I'll try my best to get a chapter or two written in the next few days, but it may not happen. The updates these next couple of weeks may possibly be sporadic if I can't get anything written by Sunday. Hope you don't mind. I'll try my best!


	10. First Steps Forward

**Chapter Nine – First Steps Forward**

_**-One year prior to disappearance-**_

My bag seldom weighed more than a few pounds, even when I first traveled across Hoenn. At that time, I carried no more than just a single change of clothes, a small TM case, and a plethora of Poké Balls and Potions. When I needed food, I'd pick from the forest or stop at a convenience store or Pokémon Center.

Somehow, though, my collection of letters seemed to fatten my bag up and weigh it down. Paired with the bag of money that I had my Salamence carry in its mouth, the bag suddenly felt like an incredible burden for the beast that it never had to deal with before. Still, there wasn't any other option.

I leaned down and patted Salamence's side, and it roared quietly back at me. "Ready?"

It rose gently off the ground, but by the time we began soaring, it moved fast enough that my hair whipped madly around my head. I leaned forward and pressed my face against its neck. Sometimes I liked to sing as we flew to pass the time, and I could've sworn that Salamence gurgled something back as I hummed.

With the completion of my movie, another stage of my plan passed. It also wasn't so difficult to convince my parents that all I wanted to do was look for Steven as a favor to his dad. Just like that, I had been set free like a bird breaking out of its cage for the first time. Suddenly I could taste the end, and it was sweet.

Rustboro became so familiar in the past year, and that this was the first place I needed to go to deliver my letters could hardly be coincidence. It wasn't where the first of my letters would go, though—nor the second or the third. But it made the most sense to make this visit first while closest to home.

Besides, someone had a promise to keep.

"Ah, it's everyone's favorite Champion!" Devon's receptionist greeted when I walked through the headquarter's automatic doors. Sure enough, nothing much about this placed had changed. Not the people, not the building itself. It was the perfect preservation of time.

"Don't let Mr. Stone hear that. He's a little biased towards my predecessor, I think," I warned with a smile, and the receptionist winked at me. "Speaking of Mr. Stone, I'm here to see him. I have a delivery. It'll only take a minute."

I held up one of the many letters I carried, one with a sticky note with a tiny number four on it, and waved it back and forth. Maybe it was unconventional for me to start delivering and placing the letters out of their intended order, but what could I do? The sooner I told Mr. Stone the plan, the sooner I could get out of here.

"I'm afraid he'll be in a meeting until eleven. You're welcome to take a seat and wait, though. I'll clear up some time once he's done," the receptionist offered with a smile.

I glanced back at the tinted glass doors, through which I could barely see, and thought about my poor Salamence sitting outside and guarding the laundry bag. No one would think to touch it with Salamence there, but I had to admit him a lazy old thing. There was a strong possibility Salamence was taking a cat nap right now.

So, it probably wouldn't be a problem to wait a little while…

"That's fine," I agreed, and I lowered myself into one of the comfy brown leather chairs in a small alcove near the desk.

The hour passed slowly, and my foot tapped frantically on the floor the whole while. During a slow period of work, the receptionist came over to me once and offered me coffee or tea, and somehow the black coffee never tasted so good. I finished it with a burnt tongue and fifteen minutes to spare, which probably wasn't quite enough time to get sensation back.

But eleven o'clock came nonetheless, and I was ushered up to Mr. Stone's familiar office. The plain décor of the room never ceased to surprise me, though it made a lot of sense considering his house and his personality. And not even the man sitting at that desk had changed in the past year.

"May! She returns!" Mr. Stone exclaimed upon seeing me. "I have the strangest feeling that I'm about to keep my word, aren't I? You look serious."

I forced a smile so as not to appear so serious, but I could hardly think that convinced him. "You know everything, don't you?" I joked, but even this was half-hearted. Still, it garnered a short chuckle from him. "I have a small favor to ask of you, sir. It might… sound weird… but it's important to me."

These past few months, I thought a lot about Mr. Stone and what I might say to him. I thought about how he might not understand or ask the wrong questions. I thought he might judge me negatively for everything I'd say. But standing here in front of his desk, I realized what an idiot I was.

Mr. Stone was a good man. He was one of the people who made this world worth living in and living for.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again," he began, and his gaze went soft. "Anything for you."

I nearly started crying again, but I held my breath for the briefest moment and stifled the sensation of tears. "Thank you," I managed to choke, and then I cleared my throat and held up the letter. "This is not meant to be read by you. In some time… I'm not sure when, if ever… someone is going to come to you with a large amount of cash. I'm afraid I don't know who yet. But I need you to take the money, and in exchange, give this letter to that person."

With a shaking hand, I tore the sticky note off and passed the letter to Mr. Stone. He grabbed it away from me and turned it over in his hands, possibly expecting more than what it was.

"The money that this person is going to give you… is mine."

It came to mind as I prepared this speech in my head that I oughtn't tell Mr. Stone that, but he had no idea at the moment how much money was in that bag. He didn't know anything more than what I was telling him now. So what did it matter to him that the money was mine? It gave him more of a reason to follow my orders than it would if he took a stranger's money.

"You're a man of substantial influence and power—even more so than I have when it comes to finance. Which is why I'm asking you to do this for me," I explained. Mr. Stone sat the whole while staring at the letter with his eyes turned down. "I need you to take the money and then distribute it to one thousand _random_ people. No thought involved. Just random."

Mr. Stone looked back up at me then, and any hint of a smile was no longer there on his face. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

It was the question I didn't want to hear, so my gaze shifted towards the floor. "I want to give back," I responded quietly, because although it was a partial answer, it wasn't the complete truth of the situation. I didn't like lying to Mr. Stone. "And I'm using someone else to deliver the money to you because I want them to see what it feels like, too."

Somehow, I didn't notice Mr. Stone rise from his desk and stand beside me. So when his chubby finger touched my chin and lifted my head, I was so surprised that a small gasp escaped from me. But even still, I managed to control the tears that continued to threaten—strong because I needed to be, not strong because I wanted it.

"You are an extraordinarily wise and kind young woman, May," he told me, dropping his finger once he knew I'd look him in the eye. "But you still look tired and disinterested to me, perhaps even more so than before. Why's that?"

"I've just had so much to do. I'm always busy," I lied, and then I told the single biggest lie of all with the most convincing smile on my face: "But I promise you that I'm fine."

Mr. Stone bought the lie. I could tell right away that he did. His tense shoulders relaxed, his eyes lost much of their concern. And when he smiled back at me with a bubbly chuckle, I couldn't help but laugh, too, at my own power over him.

"I'm glad to hear it." Then, he smacked his desk and started around it back to his seat. "Well, Champion May, if you would like to change the world and give back, then I'd be happy to be the vessel to that."

I bowed to him, low with my head down, and then stood tall again. "One more thing, sir."

"Anything," Mr. Stone said again.

My heart hit hard against my chest, and I grabbed the hem of my shirt just to have something to hold onto. "Your son. I'm going looking for Steven. And if you don't have any qualms about it, I'd like to bring him back."

Mr. Stone boomed in his laughter now, and he had to wipe his eyes dry to compose himself. "Oh, you have my blessing," he squeaked. "You truly have my blessing. Go ahead and bring him home. I've missed that sorry lad."

* * *

><p>Salamence was annoyed with me that I woke him from his nap, so he flew a little more wildly than he usually did. By the time we landed outside Fortree, my hair had been pulled almost completely from my pigtails and knotted like a nest on my head. I shot him a look, but he only huffed, wrapped his arms around the bag, and let his head fall against the ground.<p>

I chose not to react to it, instead pushing through the tall grass towards my second home.

And my secret base was really just that. When I needed some time away from everything, I would hide out there. It was often too damp to be livable because the pond right outside flooded with every rainstorm. But I couldn't bring myself to move. This place meant so much more to me than just a shitty little hideaway.

The musty smell brought a smile to my lips, and I took a breather on one of my few chairs. I didn't like to keep a lot of furniture here because most of it rotted quickly, but I placed other decorations here. All of my childhood toys sat on a shelf attached to the wall—ones I could never bring myself to throw away.

With a sigh, I reached into my bag and pulled out the stack of letters again. This time, I tore the sticky note off the first one and placed the letter on the table.

It was a complicated thing. If anyone had ever found this base, they left it untouched. But surely someone had been here before. I had stumbled into other people's bases while searching for one to call my own. Surely someone would come here and find this letter, but it wouldn't—and couldn't—be just anyone.

Of course, there was also nothing saying that this would be the first note found. A lot of this relied on chance. But I liked to think that if someone found a different note first and opened it, they might go searching for the rest regardless. The order didn't matter so much as my planned end goal.

Once I managed to calm myself down, I stood back up, and the chair squished down into mud even more as I did.

"Good luck," I muttered.

And just like I did for all of those cameras for all of these years, I blew a kiss to the letter that would start this.

* * *

><p>I took a pit stop in Lilycove before heading to the next of my deliveries in order to buy some tickets for a ferry. Despite the hustle and bustle of the city during the day, things slowed down considerably at night here. Even the Pokémon Center was quiet, and anyone who <em>was<em> there couldn't possibly recognize me since my face was partially covered by the laundry bag.

"Good evening," the nurse greeted as I walked up to the desk. I balanced the laundry bag on my hip with one arm and reached into my bag with my free hand.

"Hello." I grunted as I dumped the Poké Balls onto the counter. "Could you heal these guys up for me please?"

The nurse asked no questions, and I went over to an empty corner where I could take a whole couch to myself. I almost dozed off with the bag at my feet by the time the nurse came over to me to give me my Pokémon back. Her cheeks went red when I sat up, likely because my face was exposed completely this time. She bowed and returned to the desk without a word.

I rolled onto my side and peered between my eyelashes for a little while, watching with my eyes half-open for nothing in particular. Eventually, though, without even knowing it, I succumbed to sleep.

It was light out when I awoke, and the sunlight poured straight in through a window beside me and onto my face. I squinted and lifted my hand to block the light, but by that time, I was already wide awake. With a yawn, I sat up and stretched, and something in my shoulder cracked with the movement.

The bag remained untouched by my feet. Maybe I was brave leaving it relatively exposed by my feet while I slept—at least when I visited Mr. Stone or went to my base, I had Salamence to watch it. Here I didn't have much of anything.

But as it turned out, the Pokémon Center emptied out overnight. The same nurse sat at the desk, though I had to imagine her shift ended shortly. Everyone else who had been here when I came in had left. If anyone wanted to have taken the bag or look inside, they missed their opportunity. Poor things.

I couldn't be entirely trusting, though. I took the bag with me to the bathroom, which was admittedly a pain in the ass.

It was better than peeing in a bush, of course, and fifteen minutes later I was out the door anyway. It was just slightly inconvenient and made me wish that I had dropped this bag off first rather than waiting until the end of my trips in Hoenn—which was exactly what I was doing. But for whatever reason, this made sense to me.

Salamence was the one who had to worry about it the most, so it didn't bother me that much. When we arrived in Sootopolis, too early for the town to even be stirring, it curled up outside the Cave of Origin and wrapped its tail around the bag. Barely a second passed before the sound of snoring startled me, and I couldn't help but be concerned that the poor thing had been flying as tired as he was.

Whatever. It would get a break from flying not too long from now.

I tiptoed around the beast regardless, but I wouldn't be able to do much about the creaking of the doors to the Cave of Origin.

That was what I thought, at least, but as it turned out…

I banged my fist on the doors, as if that might help anything, but they didn't budge. "Damn it," I growled, hitting my fist one last time for good measure. I had been hoping coming this early meant that the guardians wouldn't be around, which proved to be the case. But I didn't expect to be locked out completely.

Well, I had no clue who the guardians were. I rarely came by the Cave of Origin, and Sootopolis was too ritzy for my liking. But I did know someone else who was in charge of the complete protection of the cave.

His was the next door I knocked upon, and though it was early, he opened the door. I couldn't say he looked happy about it.

"Wallace," I greeted shortly, and one of his brightly colored eyebrows rose. He hardly moved out of the doorway before I stepped into his home and kicked my shoes off in his entryway. It wasn't custom and was, in fact, very rude, but I didn't exactly have time to mess around with the pleasantries or tea or anything like that.

"May," he responded just as curtly, crossing his arms with some expression of amusement. Despite how tired he looked, I couldn't deny he was still beautiful to gaze upon. "To what do I owe this honor? It's not every day a Champion shows up on my doorstep. This early in the morning."

I smiled and gave a quick little laugh. "You can't mean that. Steven's your best friend, isn't he? And I know him to be a morning person."

"Do you?" Wallace laughed, too, and then he gestured for me to follow him into his living room. It was quite the ostentatious set up, but considering Wallace's personality and appearance, that didn't exactly surprise me. It almost troubled me to sit on such lovely—and probably expensive—furniture, but I lowered myself into an armchair nevertheless.

"Here's the deal," I began, folding my hands together and leaning my elbows on my knees. "I need to get into the Cave of Origin."

His smile faded quickly, and his eyebrows knitted together. "Why? Your business should be concluded there. Kyogre's been contained."

I didn't expect Wallace to put up a fight, and I still didn't think he would. But his suspicion was enough to make me back-track a little, to take a breath and quickly think up excuses that might make sense. Then I reached into my bag and pulled out a Poké Ball, one that didn't belong to the one I'd say it did.

"Exactly." I held the ball out towards him, but he didn't touch it. "Team Aqua isn't a threat anymore. I'd rather Kyogre be able to swim free where it belongs rather than stay cooped up in a ball. I don't use it in battles, and I would love to release it in a place it knows. What do you say? Can I enter?"

Wallace seemed to turn it over in his mind a couple of times before he responded. "I see no problem with that," he finally agreed, and I clasped my hands over the Poké Ball and smiled. "But I'm sure Kyogre has grown attached to you over time and will visit the Cave of Origin if it senses your presence. Will you visit it occasionally?"

I nodded despite knowing that was a promise I would be unable to keep. I doubted I would return between now and the time that I left for good, and then…

In any case, I didn't even have Kyogre with me. This was my Salamence's empty ball.

"Wonderful. I will grant you entry. Just… please allow me to put on more appropriate attire," Wallace requested with a grin, and I stifled laughter. He excused himself, and when he vanished from sight, I put my head in my hands and groaned.

This was quite the trail I left behind for myself. I would definitely need to put some time between this trip and my final one.

Nearly half an hour later, Wallace finally returned to his living room dressed more formally than anyone needed to be walking down the street. He gestured for me to follow him without a word, and we made our way back to the Cave of Origin where my Salamence still slept. Wallace eyed it carefully but said nothing.

It was no more than a lock blocking my way, which bothered me more than it should have. "All yours, Champion May," Wallace said, holding his hand out towards the open entrance now.

I thanked him and then entered the vast dark space. I forgot how frightening this place had been to me in my younger years. The darkness never ended—at least not until a blindingly blue room with sapphires sparkling by a pool of water. But to get there, one had to navigate through the cave without much to go by. My Blaziken was a godsend.

It was in the deepest part of the cave where Kyogre once challenged my strength—where I became the hero everyone loved—that I placed the next letter. I removed its sticky note, too, and set it beneath a rock in the corner of the sparkling cavern.

But once I set it down, I put my hands on my hips and surveyed this spot. It had been years since I'd been here. And all of a sudden the years of pent up anger and rage that I had been so long suppressing broke free. I didn't scream or cry, but I turned around and dug sapphires out of the wall with my bare hands. I threw each and every one that I could get into that lake in the center of the cave, watching the light fade as each rock sunk.

My fingertips bled terribly by the time I finished my rampage, and I had to dip my hands into the water to ease the pain. The blood dissipated like smoke in the clear water. No one would ever know what happened here. My name would be written into textbooks, but the reality of what happened would fade just like my blood.

After awhile I stood up and returned outside, where Wallace couldn't be bothered to wait for me and Salamence still slept. But before all that time passed, I knelt beside that lake and remembered everything that happened and everything that history would never say.

* * *

><p>Time didn't pass so slowly when I first traveled around Hoenn. Of course, that wasn't so much like this. I went through every town as I came to it and took a couple of days to explore. Hoenn's culture differed greatly from Johto's, so I took every opportunity to learn more about my new home. By the time I got to every town and city, more than a year already passed.<p>

One would think, then, that traveling across Hoenn in two days as I did now would feel rushed. But I only visited a few towns—there was nothing new to learn here. I was making deliveries, nothing more. And without anything new to take from this, I couldn't wait to leave. Unova was waiting.

What was the possibility of arriving in Unova and finding the world a much better place than here? What if everything I thought about the world applied only to my very small one? I already realized the naïve memories of my childhood were not reliable representations of the world. Because I remembered Johto as better than Hoenn didn't necessarily mean that was the reality. Children tended to see the best in their surroundings. But best hardly equated to real.

Still, that was all I could think about as I flew to my final destination in Hoenn, Ever Grande City. What if I started planting all of these letters and found I was _wrong_?

Well, at least Hoenn would be done. Because what I had seen of Hoenn needed to change.

Things were almost deadly quiet in Ever Grande. Without Steven around, there was no point in anyone actually coming to their posts every day. He was the acting Champion of the Elite Four because I asked him to be, and without someone standing at the top of the Elite Four…

He was doing me a favor. I ought to have been the one standing there, even more so when he decided to go on his little "soul-searching" adventure. We all knew that I wouldn't, of course.

The last of my Hoenn letters fit perfectly at the edge of Victory Road among the roses. Flowers bloomed beautifully all year long, which was something that never happened in Johto. I could appreciate that.

But I couldn't waste time smelling the roses. Not like my Adventurer.

Next: the Hall of Fame. And fame it gave.

Considering that I was practically forced to interact with Wallace, I assumed that at least one of the Elite Four would be there to block my path. But even the building, not just the mountain, was eerily quiet. The nurse in the Pokémon Center fell asleep at her desk, and I passed by her without causing the slightest stir.

I walked through the halls without being disturbed or doing any disturbing. Maybe it was still too early for anyone to show up here. But I had a feeling Sydney and the others didn't find their jobs as enjoyable as of late, anyway. What was the point of any trainers coming to challenge them if the Champion couldn't even be battled?

At the very back of the building, the Hall of Fame remained untouched. It had been awhile since the last time I challenged Steven, making it awhile since I had been in that room. I struggled for a moment to remember the code to the room—a stumbling block I never considered amongst every other disaster that could happen along the way.

"Think," I told myself, tapping my fingers on my forehead as I stood in front of the door. "Four digits. There's a three in it… I think."

If _I_ couldn't even remember… well, how was the Adventurer supposed to make it into this room?

No, that wasn't even the issue. When Steven returned—and he _would_ return—he would have access to the room again. The Adventurer wouldn't even have to challenge him. If he simply mentioned my name, Steven would let the Adventurer into the room in a heartbeat. I knew that much. That could mean simply going to his house and asking, if beating the Elite Four wasn't a plausible option.

But I needed to remember first. What buttons did I watch Steven press time after time that I beat him?

The memory was a funny thing. Things that I told myself I'd never forget were forgotten long ago. But things unimportant or painful to remember always seemed to be right in the back of my mind just waiting for a chance to creep forward. Sifting through sometimes brought the more painful memories to the forefront.

Then again, sometimes what I was trying to find was hidden between all that mess.

I pressed the keys on the pad and the door clicked open. I wasn't sure if I _remembered_ the code exactly or if it just felt right. Occasionally I'd find myself typing my phone number from Johto when I hadn't used it in years. Maybe this was the same.

The lights turned on with the opening of the door, and I stared down at my reflection on the mirrored floor as I stepped forward. I could still picture Steven walking beside me the first time I ever came through here. For this to be the last time and for me to be alone seemed wrong somehow.

And instead of walking up to the computer and entering my information as I did in the past, I stepped around and peered at the wall behind it.

"Blaziken," I whispered, sending my most trustworthy ally to my side. It leaned down and nudged my head with its beak, and I patted it. "I need your help. Can you push this computer forward a little so I can get this bag back there?"

I held up the bag as high as I could manage, and Blaziken cawed in response. It gripped the gigantic computer in its talons and pulled, and the computer screeched along the floor. I just hoped that it wouldn't leave scuff marks.

I was confident that the bag would be easier to get out than in. If the Adventurer could just reach an arm back and hook it, they'd be able to slide it right out the back. But to get it back there was a little bit more difficult than that. I couldn't just open the door of the panel behind the computer and push the bag in. It needed to fit perfectly.

And fit perfectly it did. The panel wasn't particularly large, and there were extra unused cables stored within it. But the laundry bag with all of my many bundles of money fit inside like Cinderella's slipper fit on her foot.

Blaziken pushed the computer back into place, and I brushed off the scuff marks on the floor with my sneakers.

"Perfect," I announced, staring at the sight before me with some admiration of a task well-done.

Yet with this placement of Hoenn's final piece of my game came the tears. I wiped my eyes dry before they could really begin, but that terrible tiredness of crying hit me all the same. I fell against Blaziken, and it screeched in surprise.

"You don't hate me, do you?" I asked it, and it cawed an answer I couldn't decipher. However I acted like I could understand my Pokémon, it wasn't as if I could truly know what they said. It was all a feeling—and even though I felt as though Blaziken told me it would never hate me, how long would that be the answer?

"Well," I huffed, standing up tall again and petting Blaziken's feathers. "Unova awaits."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Aha, I did it! Updates should continue to be regular on Mondays. Whoot!


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